


Enduring decisions - bear the burden

by Sharry



Series: Maybe it was fate, maybe just bad luck [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Character Development, Developed Friendship, Developing Relationship, During Time-Skip, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sequel, Swordfighting, Unrequited Love, knowing the prequel not necessary, summary in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 63
Words: 274,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharry/pseuds/Sharry
Summary: After almost losing his crew and now being seperated from them, Zoro knows that there's only one thing he can do: He has to become stronger, strong enough to protect them and himself as well; a simple decision, but he had no idea that it would change a whole world. Unfortunate for him, and Hawk Eyes, who's world he was turning upside down.Suddenly he got up and rushed out of the door, down the hallway and the stairs."What the..." Perona stood in the doorframe to the kitchen."We're not alone anymore," was all he replied, almost surprised that she hadn't noticed yet.She followed him as he threw the door open that lead to the entry hall, almost at the same moment the grand gate at the other end of the room opened. Zoro stopped. In front of him stood Mihawk and for a moment time seemed to freeze."Roronoa."
Relationships: Dracule Mihawk & Roronoa Zoro, Dracule Mihawk/Roronoa Zoro
Series: Maybe it was fate, maybe just bad luck [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761073
Comments: 232
Kudos: 232





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, after the prequel this will be my biggest project ever and I'm so excited to finally share it with you.
> 
> As some of you may know, the original story was written in German (here's the link https://www.fanfiktion.de/s/5a7e15770000b82c1b1c5c4a/1/Eine-erbarmungslose-Entscheidung) and studying makes it difficult for me to write right now, I wanted to seize the moment to translate this fic (because I know at least a few of you have been waiting patiently).
> 
> As this may suggest, English is not my native language, thus I love all kind of critics and suggestions for improvement or just feedback in general.
> 
> Those of you, who have read the prequel 'Protecting Dreams', welcome back, and those of you, who are knew, get ready, you have no idea for what you have signed up for ;-)
> 
> As always I try to update weekly, usually around saturday, that being said, I'm working and at university, trying to finish law school, so no promises ^^'
> 
> Thank you all
> 
> Sharry

Prologue

"And another stone and another stone and another..."

"Stop it, okay?"

"Stone and another stone and another..."

"Luffy, it's annoying."

"Just sing along."

"Yeah, for sure." Irritated, he rolled his eyes, pushed past his continuously grinning captain, and picked up another greyish-yellow stone from the ground.

"Aren’t you kind of moody today?" Luffy looked at him innocently and then continued to hum his tactless melody as he strolled along the stream and picked up one stone after another.

"I'm just having a headache," Zoro replied, though his ribs were actually causing him more problems than his head, and followed the younger man back to the camp.

"Oh, then I stop singing." But Luffy didn't sound blue at all. On the contrary, he dancingly walked on and whistled his song cheerfully while running the risk of losing his valuable collection with every bouncer. Not that his whistling was better than his off-key singing.

Zoro sighed silently and rolled his head back. Today was one of those days, when Luffy was exhaustingly happy. He knew that Luffy meant well, wanted to do him a favor, but all he wanted was a cup of good sake and his peace.

However, at least the last thing was impossible as a member of the Straw Hat crew.

They had left Thriller Bark behind just a few days ago and Zoro had to admit that he was still not quite back in shape. He didn't worry too much about it, he just needed a few more days of rest to get fit again. But Luffy's sunny mood would make sure that Zoro wouldn't have a quiet evening today.

"There you are. Have you collected enough stones for the campfire?"

At the sought-out campground, Usopp squatted in front of a huge mountain of firewood and waited for them.

"Sure," Luffy laughed, showing off his rich harvest.

"Where are the others?" Zoro grumbled, looking to the Thousand Sunny, which had anchored close to the not-so-distant beach.

"They're coming soon," Usopp replied, stacking even more wood, "just preparing the food and other stuff."

Zoro meanwhile did the same his captain did and layered the collected stones in a circle around Usopp and his firewood.

Again, he sighed while Luffy smirked and hummed his song. He just didn't understand why they had to go ashore. All he wanted was a quiet evening. Things like anniversaries and dates had never been important to him and unlike his friends he didn't need to celebrate them.

Nevertheless, he was now squatting on the ground of some island somewhere at the Grand Line and building a huge campfire. Because his captain wanted to celebrate tonight and if the Straw Hats could do one thing well, then it was probably to throw some parties.

And since he couldn't withstand Luffy's broad grin or Chopper's faithful eyes, he continued to build this campfire.

"Okay, are you guys ready?" Usopp asked, and a few seconds later the first flames crackled, the three men standing satisfied in front of their great masterpiece.

"Where are the others? I'm hungry!" Luffy jumped from one leg to the other and plucked at his vest.

"They're certainly coming," Usopp said, rubbing his face.

"But they need forever, and we didn't have lunch."

"We can go to Sunny and get them," Zoro suggested bored. Although he could do well without the party, Luffy was right; lunch had been canceled because the cook had locked himself up in the galley after breakfast to prepare everything for tonight. The sun was about to go down and so his stomach hung somewhere around his knees.

"No, no," Usopp quickly chimed in, and his voice trembled slightly, "I'm sure they’re coming soon."

Zoro cast a questioning glance at him and raised an eyebrow. It was obvious that Usopp was trying to keep him off the ship. Sighing, he dropped on his butt while Luffy walked back towards the river to collect berries or whatever.

"I hope you didn't plan a surprise or such a nonsense," Zoro grumbled.

"Oh, of course not!" Usopp laughed two octaves too high and squatted next to him. "Why should we do something this childish?"

Approvingly grumbling, Zoro rubbed his ears and leaned back. For a moment he closed his eyes and enjoyed the last rays of sunshine. In the background he could hear Luffy's singing, accompanied by the distant waves. It was already quite cool.

"The fire was a good idea," he muttered with a soft grin.

"What kind of party would this be without a campfire," the other replied with a laugh.

Luffy's off-key whistling was now relatively distant and barely heard over the crackling of the fire and the sounds of the sea.

"Don't run too far away, Luffy. Otherwise we will never find you again," Zoro called after him and sat back up again.

"Like you’re one to talk." Usopp looked at him with a smile.

"What do you mean?"

Usopp flinched under Zoro’s grim gaze.

"Nothing, nothing at all."

Zoro wanted to reply, but suddenly he had this unpleasant feeling, this slight whimsy in the stomach area. Slowly he got up and watched the darkening shadows of the trees in front of him. He thought he heard a quiet crackle, almost drowned by the blazing fire.

"Did you hear that?" He asked the other pirate.

"What? What did you hear?!" Usopp had already jumped up and clung to his arm.

Luffy's whistling was now completely gone.

"Hey, Luffy! Where are you?"

"Quiet, Usopp!"

Once again, he could hear the crackling, this time it was louder, closer!

Again, Usopp’s frightened stare caught his eye before both looked at the fire. Whoever was there had to stand right behind the blinding flames.

"Please tell me that you just want to take me in," he growled, pushing himself a little more in front of his crewmate, one hand already on the swords. He just wanted a quiet evening.

"No, no. We didn't plan anything like that," Usopp whispered, the fear in his voice palpable.

"So, you had planned something," Zoro replied grumpily.

"Can we discuss this later?" Usopp hissed, holding Zoro's arm even tighter. "Can you recognize anything?"

Zoro shook his head and took a step towards the fire. Usopp, who didn’t dare to let go of him, was forced to follow him.

The heat of the flames made the air in Zoro’s back seem even cooler, but he still couldn't see anything but shadows and trees.

"Usopp," he muttered softly, leaning closer to the other, "we split up, you go left, I go right."

"No! Definitely not!" Now the fingers of the other one almost clawed into his flesh. "In every scary story, this is always the dumbest idea."

"But this is not some..."

A sudden, loud bang ripped the words from his lips. Zoro and Usopp were thrown from their feet. They hit the ground.

Zoro could hear Usopp’s hard panting, feeling his own breath being squeezed out of his lungs. For a second, the heat itself seemed to burn right down into his soul, and it felt like thousand shards of glass had cut his skin.

Then the heat subsided.

"What the hell...?" He clumsily straightened up and looked around.

All around him lay countless rocks, some fist-sized, sometimes no larger than a grain of rice. Usopp cowered on the ground an armlength away from him, still struggling to breathe.

"Everything okay?" He asked and walked over to the other.

"Am I still alive?" Usopp replied groaningly, getting back on all fours.

"I think so." Zoro couldn't prevent a quiet smile.

"What just happened?" He grumbled then and pulled the other back on his feet, still a quiet beeping in his ears while his already cracked ribs complained. "Oh man, you look awful."

Usopp was covered in cuts, some only scraped skin, others relatively deep and bleeding heavily. A fragment had literally split his eyebrow above the right eye, the blood flowing unhindered.

"Well, take a look in the mirror." Usopp sounded unusually deep and grumpy. "Oh fuck, this hurts." He held his bleeding eyebrow.

"What was that? Are we under attack?" He then asked, looking around suspiciously while Zoro inspected himself.

Although he had been able to cover his face quickly enough with his arms the rest of his body looked just as bad as Usopp’s.

"Well, I don't think so. Otherwise, our enemy would have missed the moment of surprise by now."

Slowly, he pulled out a particularly large splinter from his left forearm and dark blood gushed out.

"Uh, Zoro. Wait with something like that until Chopper is here."

"Yes, sure, because of some scratches."

His head was still pounding, his ribs lamenting, and his whole body burning from pain, so much for some quietness and rest.

Usopp, on the other hand, had meanwhile turned to the fire, which was still burning innocently as if nothing had happened.

"What happened here?" Luffy strolled out of the forest, cheerfully chewing with full cheeks, holding all variations of fruits and berries in his arms. “And what the hell happened to you guys?”

"I'll tell you what happened!" Suddenly, Usopp sounded anything but insecure. "You idiots have collected limestone, that's what happened."

Angry, Usopp turned his back to the fire and stared down Zoro and Luffy. With one hand he still held his bleeding eyebrow, in the other he had picked up one of the slightly larger stones, almost as big as his head.

"How stupid can you actually be?! Limestone is particularly porous and explodes if exposed to strong temperature fluctuations. Such stones cannot be used to build a fireplace."

He yelled at them, but neither Luffy nor Zoro were impressed.

Zoro shrugged his shoulders. "How are we supposed to know something like this?"

Luffy on the other side seemed a little bit distressed that he had missed the explosion.

"You should know something like that!" Usopp growled. "The color alone shows the type of stone. How did you both survive when it was only the two of you?"

Zoro exchanged a telling look with Luffy, who grinned broadly and then began to laugh out loud.

"That's not funny, Luffy," Usopp mumbled.

"Oh, don't make such a fuss, Usopp." Zoro patted the younger man on the shoulder, who flinched with a silent whine. "Well, let’s get you to Chopper."

"Not like you’re looking any better. He should see you first, your arm’s still bleeding kinda lot."

Luffy was still laughing. "Good idea, you get Chopper and I get some more stones."

The next moment, Usopp hit the back of Luffy’s head.

"Certainly not! This is not a game, Luffy. We are lucky that neither Zoro nor I are badly injured, and my blood loss is already quite..."

"You're not going to bleed to death by just a few cuts," Zoro roughly interrupted him.

"Where are the others? I'm starving!" Luffy lamented, whose attention span had long been overstretched.

"Let’s get on board and get them," Zoro grumbled.

"No, not you, Zoro. I do it!" Usopp failed in his attempt to push him back. Zoro just slapped his hand away and walked on.

"Give it up, Usopp. I just want to eat something and then get some rest. I don't need a party, I’m tired.”

"Oh, what a pity, just when the special guests have finally arrived."

At the last moment Zoro was able to draw his Kitetsu and in the next second blade clashed against blade.

He was thrown back with a grunt and landed several feet away on the hard ground.

To his right, he could see Usopp also flying through the air, accompanied by Luffy's roar.

His focus, however, was on the man in front of him.

"Roronoa Zoro, finally we get to know each other personally," said the newcomer slippery as an eel, throwing his long ponytail over his shoulder. The light of the flames colored his Marine coat with a sea of bright yellow and orange.

Zoro stood up.

"I've heard a lot from you. A promising talent among swordfighters."

"Oh, really?"

Ignoring the words of the stranger, Zoro drew Shuusui and attacked.

But the other was obviously much stronger than him. Almost with ease, he intercepted Zoro's hit and hurled him back. For a second, the stranger's blade seemed to turn black, but that could also be an illusion caused by the flickering shadows of the blazing fire.

"However, I have to say that I am disappointed. I expected more from you, after even the best swordsman in the world has spared you. Tze."

A warm liquid flowed down Zoro's cheek. Although the Marine had only blocked his attack, Zoro had been the one injured by a cut wave.

"Who the hell are you?" He growled, rubbing his blood away.

"Oh, how rude of me." The man in front of him bowed sharply. Across his back, Zoro could see several dozen Marines. One of them wore a cape and fought with Luffy. Even a novice could see who had the upper hand in that duel and it wasn't his captain.

"My name is Homura Nataku, Vice Admiral and the Marines' best swordsman."

Zoro's breath stopped. He had already heard of this name. The cold blade of justice, Homura Nataku, third best swordsman in the world.

Suddenly, some kind of shock wave quaked the campsite, some soldiers collapsed and Zoro could hear shouts, shouts from his friends. He himself also stumbled, but he wouldn't let such an attack take him out. No, it took more to defeat him.

The Vice Admiral watched him curiously.

"Aha," he said, "apparently not quite incompetent."

Another wave swept across the field, but now Zoro was prepared, he took a step back and secured his stand. He could feel this power, he had to endure it.

Abruptly the man with the ponytail stood in front of him.

"But not that competent," he continued, dropping his sword on Zoro, this time he was sure that the other’s blade was black colored.

At the last moment Zoro was able to stop the blow, but the power of the attack caused his bones to crack and a rarely known pain pierced through his wrists.

He ducked under the other one’s arm and came back to stand. His hands trembled with torment; he was panting like he’d been fighting for hours.

He knew his friends needed his help, but he also knew he couldn't help them. This opponent in front him was from a different league. Zoro would only endure so many attacks before either his swords or his bones would break.

The Marine turned to him with a sweet grin.

"Do you see it, Roronoa Zoro? Have you already realized that you are not match for me? I could kill you here and now, so be a good boy and give up."

In the background, Zoro heard screams. They were losing. With a quiet sigh, he put his swords away.

"That's a good boy."

An inner calm filled him. So that's how it would end.

"Oh no, you get me wrong, Homura." With slow movements, he removed the black cloth from his arm. "I'm no one, who gives up."

Grinning, he tied the bandana around his head, blood still dripping down his cheek.

"If I'm already stepping down..." He drew all his swords. "Then with a loud bang."

He stared at the other one and took his beloved Wado-Ichi-Monji between his teeth, still grinning. Knowing that he couldn't win this fight, he knew it was probably going to be the most exciting fight of his life.

Of course Homura was not a Hawk Eyes, but nevertheless, it was itching in his fingers to fight against this man and if he would die by doing so, then that was just the way it was, then he would not have been ready for Hawk Eyes one way or the other.

Once again, he loosened his shoulders briefly before he went into position.

But he noticed that his opponent's facial expression had changed. If Homura had just looked amused and serene a moment before, he was now serious and suspicious, his eyes pinched into tight slits and his mouth no more than a thin line, the jaw tense.

Did he perhaps see Zoro as a threat?

Zoro laughed quietly, even if not yet, soon he would.

At that very moment, the other's eyes widened, reflecting blazing flames and wild shadows.

Zoro attacked.

Once again, the other one dodged. It almost seemed as if he could read Zoro's thoughts.

"You're too slow." The Vice Admiral wanted to irritate him, but Zoro did not miss the fact that he sounded different, much colder, much deeper. The mischief from seconds ago had disappeared.

For another time, their swords collided with each other, and Zoro felt the other's cutting wave grazing his right upper arm. Blood splattered. His wrist was almost screaming in pain and his shoulder muscles stiffened unfamiliar.

Suddenly he heard Robin's voice and saw from the corners of his eyes how Luffy crashed against a tree and slid to the ground.

"You won’t make it," growled his enemy, who had probably noticed his glance.

"It's worth a try!"

Again, their blades met, but this time Zoro used the power of impact to hurl himself away. Breathing heavily, he slipped more than he jumped in front of Luffy, who clumsily got up again. Blood dripped to the ground everywhere and Luffy rubbed over his burst lip.

"They're strong," his captain grumbled, and then they looked at each other. Zoro could see it in the dark eyes, Luffy was dead serious, also aware that this fight could be their last.

Zoro did not respond but got back into position. He disliked how much blood the other was losing.

Most of the soldiers had withdrawn and guarded the rest of the crew, whom all appeared to be tied up. Except for Robin, none of them moved. Zoro hoped that they were still alive, hopefully only fainted by the shock wave.

In front of him and Luffy stood only Homura and the other man with the Marine cape.

Both of them were strong enough to deal with Luffy and him on their own, Zoro knew.

"Give up," the man next to the swordsman ordered, "we want to give you a fair trial. There is no need to die here and now."

Something broke within Zoro.

This wasn’t fair!

They had just survived Thriller Bark; he had just faced Bartholomew. It couldn't have been all in vain!

He hadn't saved Luffy, so that he would bite the dust here and now!

No, not today! Not today!

He felt this unknown, almost forgotten force rise within himself, quite unexpectedly. He didn't know where it came from or why it reached him now, and although it filled him with fear, he knew it was his last chance.

"Luffy," he whispered, allowing this power to pierce through his limbs, "listen to me."

The other one stepped next to him. He panted at least as hard as Zoro and the way he held his belly didn't calm the swordsman.

"Do you have a plan?" He asked without looking at Zoro.

For a moment, Zoro looked at his shaking hands. He had to allow it, only this way he could be able to do something about their situation. There had to be a reason why he felt it right now. He had to use this power, he had to dare.

"Yes, I will get us out of... Argh!"

He hit hard against the next best tree. Homura stood in front of him, grabbed his neck, slowly lifted him up.

Zoro could barely breathe. Slowly he looked down to the man, who was now pushing him against the tree. But what he saw surprised him; Homura’s face was distorted by pure fear, his eyes ripped open, his skin pale, his mouth quivering.

The next moment, he staggered to the side and let go of Zoro.

He fell to the feet of his captain, who had saved him but was already flying through the air when the other Marine intervened.

"Luffy!"

Helpless Zoro watched the stranger, who chased after Luffy like lightning and punched him in the ground, a disgusting crack echoing over the campsite. For a moment, Luffy resisted, then he stopped moving.

"Luffy!"

"You should be more concerned about yourself!"

An unprecedented pain tore Zoro's side apart. He stumbled away, holding scraps of his flesh together, felt blood slipping through his fingers.

Homura stood in front of him, this cold, almost frantic expression in his eyes.

"What kind of monster are you?" The stranger whispered.

Zoro's legs gave in, his swords fell to the ground, he coughed up blood.

The irrepressible power he had allowed to grow in his body had disappeared. He had waited too long and now he would lose everything.

The Marines’ swordsman stood high above him.

"Don't worry, Roronoa Zoro. You're not going to have to suffer for long, I’ll show mercy on you.”

He couldn't defend himself when the other one pulled him up. More blood leaked to the ground and his intestines screamed in pain.

"You're going to die tonight."

The world around him blurred. Glorious flames and dark shadows blended into a colorful sea of schemes.

He could hear the man, who had wanted to convince him and Luffy to give up, talking: "Sanzo, immediately send a message to the headquarters that we have caught the entire Straw Hat crew alive and are expecting instructions for the trial. You did a good job today, and of course we will celebrate that accordingly."

Some soldiers cheered.

And then Zoro heard Homura's voice very close to his ear: "Don't worry, you won't need a trial anymore, Roronoa Zoro. Today will be the day of your death."

Deep echoed the resounding laughter through Zoro's dazed thoughts as the pain gradually overwhelmed him.

No, today was not the day he would die, not today, after all, today was actually his...


	2. Summary of Protecting Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> this here is the summary of the sequel, so you don't have to read it (again ;-P)  
> I know it's a little bit longer, but this way I made sure that all important things (and names) have been mentioned to help you catch up or to refresh your memories ;-)  
> But don't worry, this here, doesn't count as an upload, in fact there will be two more updates today, so I hope you'll have fun ^^
> 
> Thank you for your kudos and lovely comments
> 
> Greetings

Summary – Protecting Dreams

Shortly after the Straw Hats have left Thriller Bark, they are defeated by the Marines, led by Vice Admiral Hakkai and the best swordsman of the Marines’ Homura, and captured at the G-6 Marine base near the Senichi Islands.

After several days Sanji and Zoro try to escape and despite their injuries they manage to free all crew members and the Thousand Sunny, but all of them are battered, Luffy even unconscious.

To prevent the crew from being chased by the Marines, Zoro blows up the base. Sanji manages to escape, Zoro doesn’t. The crew has to watch helplessly as he falls together with the burning stronghold.

The following morning, the Shichibukai Hawk Eyes hears of Zoro’s death while visiting his home island Sasaki. Searching for answers, he demands his childhood friend Cho Jiroushin, Rear Admiral of the Marines, to steal the sealed Marines’ documents, only to stumble upon an unconscious child on his way home.

As it turns out, this girl is nobody else but Zoro himself, although neither swordsmen can explain how he was able to show up at Sasaki from the far away Senichi Islands within less than a day and why he is alive and in the body of a young woman.

Despite all doubts, Hawk Eyes eventually decides to help Zoro finding his crew, who have no clue that Zoro has survived and mourn him. Zoro has no choice but to stick with the Shichibukai, as he is much weaker in his new form.

They find out that within a month the Straw Hats will reach Sarue, a neighboring island of Sasaki, and decide that Zoro should wait until then for them.

Due to recent events and because Zoro doubts that he can protect his crew in his current form, he begs Hawk Eyes to train him. At first, the Shichibukai rejects his plea indignantly, but gives in after learning that Zoro fought and survived against Homura.

In the following days, Mihawk begins to train Zoro and is surprised by him, despite his current form. Over time, both swordsmen enjoy the shared training and get to know each other better even apart from practice.

Through Kanan, the housekeeper of the Dracule mansion, Zoro learns a lot about the Shichibukai’s past and in a quiet moment he tells Mihawk about the fairy tale of the first swordsman Hakuryuu, whose books Mihawk's father had collected, although no one can read them anymore.

Over time, more and more people become aware of the young woman in the house of the Shichibukai. But since neither Zoro nor Mihawk want to reveal his identity, not only to protect the Straw Hats, rumors unintentionally arise about the young Lady Loreen, who is said to be in a relationship with the wealthy son of the Dracule family.

Last but not least, a certain Rishou Eizen, an influential politician of the World Government and confidant of the World Aristocrats, finds interest in Zoro's female side and invites him to various events.

Nevertheless, the two swordsmen try to spend their time mainly with their training, which leads to them repeatedly ending up clashing against each other due to different opinions and in particular the Shichibukai questions why he helps the younger one in the first place and why it is so important to him that Zoro improves.

In the end, however, he decides to protect Zoro and offers him Josei, the sword of his late sister, as Zoro had left his own swords with his crew.

But then things change when Homura Nataku, the former fiancée of Mihawk's sister, brings two invitations to the Marine Ball, the prime social event of the year.

Forced by the high nobility to attend, the two swordsmen prepare for the ball with embarrassing dance lessons and even more embarrassing rehearsals together with Kanan and her sister Shakky.

Over the days, they get to know each other better and even have to admit that they like each other. Zoro in particular finds it difficult to accept the other as a friend, after all, he wants to defeat Hawk Eyes one day.

Mihawk, on the other hand, realizes that not only does he get surprisingly easily irritated by Zoro, but also that he is more concerned about the younger one than he ever wants to admit.

In the course of this time, Zoro begins to translate the books about Hakuryuu for Mihawk as payback for his help.

At the ball, Zoro as Lady Loreen is confronted with various dances. At first Homura tries to convince him that Mihawk is not a good match for Lady Loreen, but Zoro silently remembers his lost battle against Homura and brushes him off. He then met Vice Admiral Comil, who turns out to be a reborn in a new form, just like Zoro. After a brief discussion Comil agrees to teach Zoro how to regain his original body, but stresses that Lady Loreen will forever be a part of him.

This small success is quickly overshadowed by Eizen's appearance, who tries to claim Lady Loreen for another time and wants to persuade Zoro to work for him. Zoro refuses to do so, well aware that he will return to his crew within a few days.

Mihawk and Zoro escape from the ball, causing an uproar to their amusement. But only until they have arrived in their respective rooms and have to deal with their thoughts. Zoro understands that he may not be able to return to his crew in order to become himself again and is horrified that his biggest fear isn’t only about what his friends might think of him, but what Hawk Eyes might think of him as well.

Mihawk, on the other hand, realizes painfully that he likes Roronoa much more than he ever expected, and that he will lose him to his crew one way or another. He then drowns his unwanted feelings in alcohol.

In the days that followed, both Mihawk and his childhood friend Cho Jiroushin train Zoro, although Jiroushin doesn't know who Zoro is, before the long-awaited morning arrives and Zoro and Mihawk travel to Sarue to finally meet the Straw Hats.


	3. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this here is the first upload.
> 
> For anybody feeling oddly familiar with it, I'd recomened chapter 31 and 32 of Protecting Dreams ;-P

Homecoming

A few weeks later

"Are you ready?"

He simply nodded.

"Just remember, you must act before they go ashore, otherwise..."

"I know the plan," he interrupted the other one irritated and pulled the hood deeper in his face.

The man behind him sighed heavily as he bent over Zoro a little more to watch the ship, which slowly but surely came closer to the port.

Zoro could feel the other one's calm, wooden scent diffuse around him while the other man almost hugged him from behind to keep a better eye on the arriving ship.

"What the hell are you doing?" He growled, pushing his elbow behind him to keep the other man at a distance.

"Would you please stop making such a fuss. It's not like I’m..."

"Just shut up."

Zoro leaned further forward, his eyes firmly fixed on the approaching ship. The man behind him groaned unnerved and leaned as far away as possible. Yet their bodies still touched, which was probably because the hiding place they had chosen offered hardly enough space for one person, let alone for two.

Since the harbor of the island was well-visited, it had proved difficult to find a rather inconspicuous place, especially since the morning sun was already bright in the sky and offered little shade for an ambush.

Not that Zoro was planning an ambush. Well, yes, he was planning an ambush, but actually only to prevent another ambush. It was just a bit more complicated.

So, while he stood behind several boxes in the shadow of a house and peered over them, he tried to identify the people, whose ambush he wanted to stop. Needless to say, they were Marines.

"You won't find them here," the man behind him murmured softly, as if he had heard his thoughts. "They won’t be foolish enough to welcome their guests directly at the port. They will wait until your friends have left the ship and then cut off their only escape route."

"I know that myself, thank you very much."

"Please listen to me this once. I'm doing this for you, so..."

"I didn’t ask for your help." 

"Here we go again. For the last time..." The older one behind Zoro's back interrupted himself as the ship got closer and closer, not that Zoro minded.

"It's almost time," he muttered so softly that Zoro could barely understand him, while the other leaned forward again. "Wait for the right moment."

Zoro rolled his eyes but did not respond this time. Of course, he knew when he had to take action, he didn’t need the other one to tell him, yet he was unable to ignore his bad conscience. After all, the other one wasn’t responsible for his bad mood.

"Not yet," the older one whispered near Zoro's ear.

But he couldn't hinder being nervous as the Thousand Sunny slowly approached, couldn't hinder seeing the next few minutes in front of his inner eye, when he would finally meet his friends again, when he would finally meet his friends again after more than a month.

He felt sick, although he should be happy.

"Not yet," the man behind him quietly repeated, as if Zoro were actually waiting for his order.

Had it really been just a month?

He shook his head slightly. It felt much longer, almost like a whole life.

A month ago, he had been separated from his crew, had lost them almost for good – no, wrong - a month ago his crew had almost lost him for good.

A month ago, he should have died, he had actually died, but he was still there, was still alive and today, today he would see his crew again.

"Get ready, Roronoa."

He nodded silently. He really should be happy.

However, there were two small problems.

One was the ambush that the Marines had prepared for the Straw Hats. The soldiers believed that the pirates were still weakened because they lacked the power of the former Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro.

After all, he had not survived the escape from the G-6 Marine base. 

However, Zoro didn’t worry about that part too much. They would have an easy game with the Marines, especially if he thought of his companion. This man behind him could probably defeat all soldiers present without even breaking out in a sweat.

No, what worried Zoro was this second, tiny problem...

"What for heaven’s sake is he doing?" The voice next to his ear was a little louder than before and ripped him out of his thoughts.

Startled he looked up, for a second he had been distracted and had looked at his hands, those weak hands, but when he looked up again, he could just see a figure jumping off the Thousand Sunny before it was even close enough to the pier and landing elegantly on the sidewalk of the harbor promenade.

The next moment, the newly arrived blond threw his hair back, put his hands in his pockets, and walked his way, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

"Damn it! Cook, what the hell are you doing?!" Zoro growled.

The man in his back also sighed unnerved.

“Well, we can't change it. We switch to Plan B, Roronoa."

One second Zoro looked up to the tall man behind him, saw the cool, rational gaze, knew that the other one had already analyzed the situation and had by now identified the best strategy.

“Okay, Plan B.” With these words Zoro jumped up the boxes on top of the roof of the house and followed the cook, an evil curse on his lips.

Their first plan had been the simplest. They had wanted to wait until the Straw Hats would be landing and before meeting them and informing them of the planned ambush of the Marines. They had wanted to prevent the crew from leaving the ship while the Log Pose had to reorient itself.

But of course, this fucking chef hadn't even waited until the Thousand Sunny had been close enough to the harbor before leaving.

Stupid dart-brows, there was always only trouble with him.

However, Zoro and his companion had taken into account that this could happen. In this case, they had agreed that Zoro would follow his crew members while the other would take care of their transport, a small boat, nothing more.

That is why Zoro hustled over the roofs of the bustling city of Sarue. Of course, he could have walked through the full streets, but the danger that he would be recognized, now that the sun was up, was simply too great.

He looked around with a sigh, but he couldn't find the cook, within seconds he had lost him.

Damn it!

However, Zoro was pretty sure where to find the cook, after all the other was the chef of the Straw Hat crew. Grinning, he continued to walk towards the market, always making sure that none of the passersby on the ground would notice him. But then he stopped.

In front of him was a wide dead end in which almost fifty people had gathered. But not just any people, he could recognize the emblem on their shirts even from where he stood. With quiet movements, he jumped behind a chimney and stared out of the shadows down to the Marines.

He quietly watched the soldiers before he noticed that they were not in a dead end but in a courtyard. Several soldiers leaned against the walls of houses, smoking and chatting, some also squatted on the floor, all in all they seemed to be quite relaxed as they were waiting for something to happen.

In the middle of the small courtyard stood a single chair on which the obvious leader sat in a suit and Marine cape. Zoro could see how he went through the wanted posters of the Straw Hats.

"Lieutenant!"

From the house where Zoro was hiding, another soldier emerged and walked straight towards the officer. Some soldiers looked up; some immediately began to make themselves ready to go.

"The pirates have just docked, Blackleg Sanji has already left the ship and some of the others are probably going ashore as well."

The lieutenant nodded. "Very well, everyone should stick to the plan. The groups S1 and S3 should keep an eye on the market, S6 takes the port. Everyone else should focus on the Straw Hat."

Zoro continued to lean forward, a single green strand of hair blocking his view, but he brushed it away unnoticed.

"And what's with us, lieutenant?" One of the soldiers, still squatting on the ground, asked impatiently, while the newcomer rushed back to the house.

"We are the special unit," the leader said, as if it was obvious, and continued to look at Luffy's wanted poster. "Of course, we will take care of this Straw Hat. After he's weakened by the others, we'll have our go on him and this time..." Slowly, the man tore the paper apart. "We’ll take him down."

Laughter and occasional applause came from the soldiers who grinned at each other, bloodthirst and the will to fight in their faces.

For a moment, Zoro watched them.

He was supposed to run to the market and get the cook, that had been the plan.

However, he doubted that everyone else was still on board. Moreover, he would hardly be able to persuade the chef to go back to the ship. Because why would the chef trust him? After all, he wouldn't even recognize Zoro.

He bit his lower lip. No, his own crew members wouldn't recognize him; he made a decision.

This Marine idiot down there would lead Zoro directly to his captain in case of doubt and as it sounded, this ambush was also mainly aimed for Luffy. So, he might would need somebody to guard his back.

Zoro trusted the cook enough to defend himself alone against a few soldiers, after all, Zoro himself would be able to defeat the ones down there on his own. Even in his present body.

Once again, Zoro stared at his hands, at his small, fragile hands.

He had almost become accustomed to this body, almost accepted this body, almost forgetting that it once had been different. But now that he had seen the chef in front of him, realized that he would see his crew again today, would finally see all of them again, this body was stranger to him than ever before.

A month ago, he had nearly died, a month ago he should have died.

But he had not after he and the others had been captured at the G-6 Marine base. For days they had been left to rot in cells and yet he had not found death. He had not died after freeing his crew and blowing up this damn base. He had not died in the end after he had not been able to escape and had fallen into the depths along with the burning tower. He had not found death, although the fire had eaten him, even though he had certainly found death.

He wasn't dead.

Miraculously, Zoro had survived, and as if by a curse he had taken on another shape, trapped in a body so much weaker than his own, so much more vulnerable than his own, so much more fragile than his own.

Nevertheless, Zoro knew that even in this body he could keep up with the Marines down there, a month of hard training had to be enough for that.

He would deviate from the plan to protect his captain, that was his job.

Besides, he didn't have to worry about the other crew members. After all, they were not helpless, and Zoro's companion would probably help them, gritting his teeth and annoyed to death, but yes, he would help them.

He had found Zoro, a month ago, in this other body, weak and vulnerable.

While Zoro watched the soldiers beneath him, he remembered how the other one had stared at him, in disbelief, when he had told him that he was Roronoa Zoro. His laughter had been almost grotesquely distorted because he had believed that Roronoa Zoro had died.

Since then only a month had passed, not even a whole month, barely thirty days and yet Zoro could not prevent himself from starting to like that idiot.

A month ago, Zoro had expected the other one to kill him on the spot, expected the other one to at least throw him out of his home, despise his weakness, and now, now, he trusted that this idiot would protect his friends simply because he would do Zoro a favor.

Zoro sighed in resignation. He was already sorry for his harsh words from a few minutes ago, after all, the other one had helped him a lot over the last few weeks, had protected him, had trained him.

And now he even helped Zoro return to his crew.

"Lieutenant." Another soldier came into the courtyard. "Three other members of the Straw Hats have just left the ship."

"Who is it?" The leader seemed too serene for Zoro's taste, as if his plan were infallible.

"Nico Robin has left the ship at first with the crew's pet Tony Chopper, they seem to be visiting the municipal pharmacy. Just a few seconds ago, Cat Burglar Nami has left as well, apparently, she is on her way to the market, where Blackleg Sanji is also at the moment."

"That means the Straw Hat is still on board, correct?"

"Yes, exactly. But shouldn't we better attack now? Who knows if the Straw Hat will leave the ship at all."

The man in a cape shook his head. "No, we're waiting. According to my records, the Straw Hat has so far left the ship every time those pirates visited a new island, there is no reason for him to break his habit now." He placed a hand on his bearded chin. "It is also too risky to attack him at the port. From the reports of the G-6 we know that in case of doubt he would even leave his own people behind and we’re not here for his crew members but for him."

This time it took all of Zoro’s willpower not to jump down there and bring that asshole some well-deserved beating.

It was true that a few weeks ago the newspapers had stated that Zoro had betrayed his crew and had been left behind by them afterwards to go down with the base G-6. But that had been a lie, a simple lie, even the Marine's documents knew of this lie, after all they had discovered almost the complete truth behind Zoro’s escape plan.

How did Zoro know that they knew?

Well, that too was due to his accomplice, who had the influence and the connections to access such documents. After all, he was one of the seven Shichibukai, a powerful politician and, last but not least, the greatest swordsman in the world.

Yes, Zoro had not been found by anyone other than Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk, and exactly this guy was now helping Zoro to outwit the Marines’ ambush.

A lot could happen within a month.

The only thing the Marines hadn't figured out by now was that Zoro was alive despite everything, even if now in a different shape.

However, there was this great risk that someone would recognize Zoro if he were to run through the streets now. Even his dark clothes and black cape probably wouldn't be able to protect him from prying eyes, after all, he had achieved dubious fame in this form.

In his new body Zoro had somehow managed to be noticed by the press and now he was by chance one of the most famous people in the world. Not him of course, not Roronoa Zoro, who was already considered deceased. No, the character he was currently impersonating had become famous. Nothing more than a fictional character that he and Hawk Eyes had unintentionally created.

Zoro was not only a former pirate hunter, but now he also had an alter ego named Lady Loreen. And this petite, tender, and fragile Lady Loreen had managed to rise to A-prominence within a few weeks, and he didn’t know which part of that sentence sucked the most.

Once again, he sighed. It would be difficult for him to explain to his crew that he and Lady Loreen were one and the same person. But he had to do it, after all he wanted to go home, back to his friends, and only if he told them the truth, only if he revealed all his weakness in front of them, only then would he have the opportunity to regain his true form.

At least that was what he had been told and since he didn't have a better idea, he could just as well try it out.

"Lieutenant." Another soldier came out. "Monkey D. Luffy has just left the ship. He's on his way inland.”

"Perfect." The officer got up and straightened his suit. "You heard it, that was our sign. Get ready."

The soldiers present rose unanimously and reached for their weapons, some put on their white caps while others spit cigarettes and chewing tobacco to the ground.

"Let’s go hunting, and this time we’re going to kill our prey!"

Dark laughter answered the lieutenant while Zoro on top of the roof put his hand around his handle.

It would be easy to kill this asshole right here and now, he would be dead before Zoro would touch the ground. He knew he could do it.

But he should not interfere if possible. If it turned out that Lady Loreen was entangled with the Straw Hats in any way, there would be some people he would put in danger, people who had become important to him during the last month. He was not allowed to act thoughtless now. He had to wait, and not just because of that.

So he waited on the roof while the soldiers below him got ready, and when they finally left the courtyard, he was behind them, watching them, ready to interfere at any time.

From somewhere to his left, he could hear yelling voices and the sound of gunshots.

For a moment he thought about turning around, but almost at the same moment he already knew that it was not necessary. Hawk Eyes was there, he would protect his friends.

So, he followed the soldiers who brought him ever closer to another, much louder tumult.

Suddenly Zoro stopped, forgot completely to hide in the shadows of the roofs, forgot completely what was happening around him. In front of him, less than twenty meters in front of him, the grinning captain of the Straw Hat pirates jumped through the alleys, dodged bullets and swords with ease and laughed as if he had the greatest time of his life.

Zoro felt unwanted tears piercing his eyes, one hand almost reaching out for him. For a fraction of a second, he believed that the other had looked up to him. But it was impossible for Luffy to see him in the dazzling light of the midday sun.

He wanted to call out for him, to hurry at his place right next to him.

It was like always, wherever the Straw Hats appeared, they caused nothing but chaos and destruction.

A quiet, trembling laugh escaped Zoro. Luffy was strong, he knew that.

It was just like it used to be. That one month, which seemed to him like a second life, was over. He was finally able to go home. He had feared that his crew would not be strong enough to protect him in this body, had feared that his present weakness would not allow him to return to them.

But he had made a mistake, had underestimated his crew, his captain, and had not believed in them. But he had been wrong, he could go home.

Today he would return home.

Relieved, Zoro laughed, ignoring this slight melancholy that rose within him.

He could go home.

Over the roofs in the distance he could see the Thousand Sunny, he quickly followed his captain, who fought his way through the alleys of the small town and came closer and closer to the harbor.

After a month, after a long month, he was back.

Zoro was at home.

"I'm back," he whispered, "I'm home."


	4. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it comes, the second part.
> 
> Next week we start with the regular chapters, so be prepared ;-)

Farewell

He followed Luffy relentlessly, this constant light feeling in his chest, this knowledge that he would finally come home.

However, the joy was somewhat dampened by the certainty that he would leave the island of Sasaki, where he had spent the last few weeks, with all its inhabitants, with him.

But no, he wouldn't let that tarnish his return.

His captain was still catapulting one soldier after another - and sometimes several of them at once - against the walls of houses or down the streets they passed.

Luffy ran down the alleys towards the harbor, but slowly he seemed to get tired. The fight already lasted for some time and while Luffy stood his ground alone, new soldiers kept appearing like sand in a desert.

They also seemed to be much stronger than the usual minions who otherwise annoyed them. Some of them were able to dodge Luffy's attacks and even carried out more or less effective counterattacks.

Zoro on the roofs could see Luffy repeatedly wiping his forearm over his forehead. He was visibly exhausted.

He wanted to intervene, he had to intervene. The two of them would have a good chance, but he also knew that he was not allowed to intervene, otherwise...

Zoro swallowed. He wanted to help him, but he still had to wait, he had to trust his captain. Luffy was strong enough and otherwise one of the other crewmates would certainly help him. Zoro didn't need to worry. The crew was strong enough to protect Luffy, strong enough to protect him. They just had to be strong enough to protect Zoro.

But why was nobody coming?

Wasn't it obvious that Luffy needed support now? Had none of them felt that Luffy was in danger? Couldn't they feel that their captain needed them?

Luffy had reached the edge of the harbor promenade, still fighting and kicking any enemy standing in his way, trying to eliminate as many soldiers as possible. Zoro followed him across the roofs, ready to take action at any time if it had to be.

But he knew he had to hold back.

By now he didn’t care about being recognized. Sure, he could do without the world finding out that he was Lady Loreen, but in the end he didn't really care.

Yet Zoro knew that if he intervened, if he didn't trust that his crew could make it without him, then...

"Luffy!" The chef's loud voice echoed across the harbor, almost startling Zoro.

He glanced over to the Thousand Sunny, which was still a few hundred meters away. He could clearly recognize some of his crew members on board and there, there he could also identify the veiled figure of Hawk Eyes. So, he had actually protected Zoro's friends.

But then he saw Sanji, who obviously ran as fast as he could to rush to his captain's aid. Some soldiers had already noticed the hero in the suit, which wasn’t really surprising, given that this idiot was yelling loud enough for the whole town to hear him.

"Don't let him escape!" The lieutenant ordered behind lines of soldiers, who seemed to attack even more forcefully by now.

Like a silent bystander Zoro watched as captain and chef got closer and closer as both of them kept kicking soldiers out of their ways. Again and again Sanji called the name of the Straw Hat.

But Zoro on the roof could see it exactly, could see how fast Sanji was running, could see how fast Luffy was running, could see how fast the lieutenant was.

Luffy was exhausted, but if he’d make it to Sanji, if Sanji would make it to him, everything would be good, then everything would be...

Luffy fell.

His legs gave in and he fell to the ground, catching himself with his hands.

"This is your end!" The lieutenant had almost reached him.

Could the chef still make it? 

He already knew the answer.

_Zoro!_

For a moment, he thought he heard Luffy, deep within himself.

The lieutenant had drawn his sword.

_Where are you?_

"Luffy!" Sanji screamed desperately, reaching out a hand for his friend over whom the Marine officer's dark shadow loomed. "No!"

He was too late, Sanji wouldn't be in time.

The man in the Marine coat raised his sword.

_I am here._

Zoro jumped down the roofs.

_My captain!_

It went fast, easy, without any struggle.

In less than a second, Zoro stood behind the lieutenant, registering how much larger the stranger was. The Marine was much stronger than Zoro in this form, but he acted immediately.

Josei, the supreme great sword Hawk Eyes had given him, after Zoro had left his own with his crew, thirsted for almost every single drop of his enemy's blood. For decades it had been in a display case, this was its first fight after such a long time.

Almost indignant the sword drilled into the soft flesh of the officer, let Zoro lead it obediently between bones, grateful to finally be allowed to fight again. But Zoro did not just pierce through the lieutenant, he had learned to act quickly and efficiently. He had to win a fight within a split second.

While pulling out the blade, he tore the flesh, cut through it like warm butter, leaving a gaping hole in the lieutenant's chest while blood pattered to the ground like rain.

For a moment, the Marine stood in front of Zoro, blood discoloring his white Marine cape within seconds. He seemed to want to say something but fell to his knees.

Rattling his sword fell to the ground.

"What.. the...?" Then he collapsed, obviously dead.

Zoro had pointed his weapon at the corpse, but his gaze hit the cook's.

Sanji was frozen in running, one hand still stretched out for the Straw Hat kneeling on the ground, but he only stared at Zoro, the light of the midday sun reflected in his one visible blue eye and Zoro wondered if he saw something like recognition scurrying over those pale features.

For a moment, Zoro looked at his captain in front of him. He had protected him, as it had always been his duty, he had protected his captain.

But he had no time for sentimentality right now.

He quickly swirled around and confronted the remaining soldiers, standing wide-legged in front of his captain. Zoro would protect Luffy, as he had always done, regardless of the consequences.

He ignored suddenly emerging, unwanted feelings - which threatened to overwhelm him in this body at any time - and looked at the approaching soldiers.

The unexpected death of their leader had shocked them, but now they attacked again, anger and despair in their screams. Feelings that could be a hinderance in a fight, as Zoro knew only too well. He had already learned from these mistakes, had learned from the best of the best, and now turned the weakness of those soldiers against them.

It was the first true battle with real enemies since Zoro had been trapped in this weak body. The first fight that could be fatal for him, but he didn’t care. Josei in his hand pulsated bloodthirsty and he gave himself to the fulfilling feeling of fighting.

Most of the soldiers were taller than him and, of course, stronger, their muscular upper arms so tense they seemed to burst. But a fight wasn’t won with strength alone.

Zoro knew that one blow, one hit, could be enough to defeat him, to break the thin bones of his body, to tear open the paper-thin skin, so he didn't allow the soldiers to attack, knocked them out before they even noticed where he was, killed them directly, left no room for revenge, was too quick for their resistance.

Suddenly, he felt a familiar arm wrapping several times around his hip and a familiar voice shouted at him: "Hold on tight!"

He suspected what would follow, had barely enough time to put his sword away, heard the cook's desperate curse, and the next second they raced through the air.

Zoro's lungs were pressed together, every bit of oxygen pushed out, while the Straw Hat catapulted them somewhere, presumably towards the Sunny.

From the corners of his eyes, he could see Sanji, who seemed no less alarmed, but quickly freed himself from his captain's clinging embrace and jumped to the ground.

Zoro immediately followed his example. Luffy's escapes mostly ended in a hard impact against some wall, which he could do without, especially in this body.

But he had misjudged the tightness of Luffy’s grip, had taken a moment too long to free himself, and so he hung upside down in the air and fell vertically to the ground.

At the last moment, he was caught by Hawk Eyes, covered in his cloak, standing casually at the middle of the pirate ship, as if he were nothing more than an uninvolved spectator.

Luffy, meanwhile, clashed with full force against the foremast of the Sunny and then crashed to the ground, with his head ahead.

All this happened within a split of a second and for a moment everything was quiet. Then Nami shouted orders to escape and the other crew members followed.

He was home. Zoro was back at home, back on the Thousand Sunny, back with his crew.

But while there was a lot of activity around him and the Shichibukai, Zoro couldn’t move as if frozen.

He wanted to pull down the hood and shout at the others that he was back. Wanted to help Robin and Sanji fending off approaching cannonballs. He wanted to be there again, he wanted to be a part of it again.

But what if his nightmares would come true, what if his fears would come true? What if his crew would not only not recognize him or even worse, what if they didn't even want him to come back? What if his friends could not forgive him for leaving them believing that he had died? What if he couldn't become a man again? Could he then return to the crew despite that?

Hawk Eyes next to him was dead silent. Oh, how Zoro wished somebody would silence the voice in his head.

But maybe, maybe it didn't matter if he was a man or not. The main thing was that he was with his crew, right?

After all, he had just been able to protect his captain in this form and he would find some other way to return to his former self, somehow.

Franky activated a Coup de Burst at Nami's demands, and seconds later the small pirate ship sailed through the air. Away from the island Sarue, away from the Marines, away from Zoro’s memories.

His body was still not moving, he was frozen, wanted nothing more than to return to his friends, here and now, and yet he could not even make a sound.

What if they didn't take him back, what if they didn't understand him? What if they didn't understand what had happened to him? What if they simply didn't care?

He had already opened his mouth, after all he had agreed with Hawk Eyes that he would talk, that he would tell his friends the truth.

But his body did not obey him.

"Nami!" Chopper cried suddenly from the side, where he had thrown himself over the rail in his giant form to catch the falling Usopp. "There's a ship behind us."

The Thousand Sunny landed gently in calm water again, but Zoro only looked at his young friend, what had he missed his little Chopper.

"What do you mean? Who’s following us?"

His gaze wandered to the cook, who just lit himself a cigarette, he seemed to be the calmness in person, but Zoro knew him too well, could feel the inner restlessness of the blond.

"No," replied Chopper, "nobody follows us. It looks like it’s attached to the Sunny and it’s really small."

For a moment Zoro looked up to Mihawk, who had attached his small boat to the Thousand Sunny as agreed. The other acted just as they had agreed on, did not move an inch from their strategy, quite different from Zoro himself.

Usopp in Chopper's arms mumbled something under his breath while Franky pulled Luffy out of the ground.

"That’s the coffin boat!" Usopp suddenly cried, and his voice filled Zoro with ice, as if the other had blown his cover.

"Yes, that would be mine."

The man next to Zoro spoke. Although they had agreed that Zoro would talk to his friends, Mihawk had raised the word and somehow, he was grateful.

All crew members were staring at them. He noticed how their eyes first looked at the tall man by his side and then fell on him, noted how recognition flickered over one face or another, followed by horror and disbelief.

Sanji took a step in front of his crew, stood between Zoro, Mihawk, and the others, as if he wanted to protect them, to protect them from Zoro.

"What's going on?" Brook asked, confused, but his gaze hit Zoro.

For a moment they stared at each other, and although it was impossible for Brook to recognize him under his hood, he took a step back. Zoro knew exactly why.

Because he could see it and that meant that the skeleton could see his as well. The shadow of a former life.

But then Mihawk's voice woke him up again.

"Who would have thought we would meet again like that," Mihawk said calmly, pulling back his hood, "Monkey D. Luffy, future king of the pirates, if I recall correctly."

Distrust turned into terror.

"Hawk Eyes?" Only Robin, as always, seemed to be calm. "What does a Shichibukai want from us?"

"She's right!" Sanji growled hostile, pointing his index finger at Mihawk. "What do you want, Hawk Eyes!"

Zoro's heart raced incredibly fast. But he still lacked control over his body.

"Good Lord! What a rude salutation after we even helped you." Mihawk next to him sounded almost relaxed, he seemed to master the situation without any problems. His calm words reassured Zoro.

"If you're here because of Zoro, you're too late!" Sanji almost screamed, making another step further ahead of the others, with so much written in his face that Zoro couldn't put into words. "He's dead."

It was like a sword piercing through his back. It was natural that his friends thought he was dead. After all they had seen him die, after all the whole world had declared him dead. Such words should not surprise him and yet, nevertheless, they stabbed right through him.

"I know it must be difficult to imagine, Blackleg Sanji, but I am actually capable of reading the newspaper, you know?"

Again, it was Mihawk, who responded with a relaxed, although slightly threatening voice.

Zoro had to pull himself together. Who was he to let himself be overrun by his own feelings?

He was Roronoa Zoro and no matter what body, it didn't suit him to be protected by some idiot Shichibukai.

No, this was his fight.

He ignored the alarmed exchange of words of his crew members and prepared himself, now he would face his fears and tell his crew the truth.

"Only over my dead body!"

Before he even knew what was going on, he saw Sanji attack.

Zoro had obviously missed an important point of the conversation, but he knew he had to prevent this attack. Hawk Eyes might had a weakness concerning Zoro, but he certainly wouldn't be gentle with the cook.

No, Zoro was suddenly quite sure that he had to intervene. He briefly stared at Mihawk, feeling that there was something within his companion that could be more than dangerous for the cook.

He rushed forward. Sanji was indeed fast, but Zoro could sense his movements with ease. They had been almost equal to each other, a month ago, but although Zoro was now in the weaker body, clearly inferior to the other, he knew that he could defeat the cook within one breath.

Damn it!

It took less than a second, he ducked under Sanji's outstretched leg, slammed his right arm to the side and threw himself at him, his hood sliding backwards.

Hard, the chef crashed to the floor. Zoro pressed one hand against his throat, the other he held only an inch above his chest, ready to kill, showed no weakness, no gap in his defense. Quickly breathing, he lingered over the cook.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Zoro noticed how the other looked at him, looking at every detail of Zoro’s face.

That look didn't suit the chef, at least not when he looked at Zoro. He shouldn't look at him that way. With such an expression on his face, the chef should not look like this at his favorite enemy.

But Zoro also noticed something else, he noted the pale, ashen skin stretching parched and dry over sharp cheekbones, noted the dark, heavy circles under the other’s eyes, making him look even harsher. The cook looked sick, his lips were dried out and ripped open, he looked thinner, even thinner than he already had been.

Zoro had become stronger during recent weeks, had become more mature and wiser because of what had happened to him. Sanji, on the other hand, Sanji had suffered and had lost his strength. He had become weaker. Zoro's alleged death had weakened him.

Damn it!

Why had he not understood what Zoro had told him at that time? Why had Sanji mourned him instead of becoming more cautious? Why had Sanji neglected his dream and himself?

Anger crouched through Zoro’s body. This idiot was as stupid as he was blond!

Zoro stood up and threw his ponytail back.

The chef had apparently not understood what Zoro had told him at that time, that was why he was too weak. The cook was too weak. Damn it!

"Don't throw away your life that easily," he said coldly, taking a step back.

But why did the other look at him in this weird way? Why did he still look at him with this longing stare?

"But isn’t that Lady Loreen?" Nami whispered behind him, and he turned to her in surprise. Of course, Nami would recognize him from the newspaper, of course she would recognize his alter ego.

"Who?" Usopp muttered.

"Don’t tell me you have never read about her? She's famous. She’s in the newspaper every single day. She’s a former World Noble but gave up her title because of love."

"What?" That was new to Zoro. He knew that many rumors were told about him, especially about his relationship with the Shichibukai, but he mostly ignored the gossip.

Confused he looked at Nami wondering why she would believe such chatter?

How could he explain to them who he was now? Would they even believe him? 

Nami waved it away with her hand.

“Oh, don’t worry about such barbarians. I read every single article about you and your gift to buy beautiful clothes for small money inspires me. Your style is gorgeous.”

Her words bothered him. Neither of those things – not clothes nor money – were interesting for him in any way.

"You are beautiful."

He stared at Sanji, who still looked at him with something like desire in his eyes. The cook should not look at Zoro like that, he simply couldn’t look at Zoro like that. He was Zoro and not...

“I read that you’re fighting slavery. I admire if people use their position to do something good.” Even Robin had fallen for this charade, even she believed the sea of flimsy lies.

“She really looks friendly and she helped Luffy. I think we can trust her.”

Chopper!

Their words irritated him, they all spoke with him differently than usual – nicer than usual - only saw Lady Loreen, not him. They had no idea what was going on here. But from now on they would never be able to see him the way they had before.

It was over. He could never again be simply Roronoa Zoro for them as soon as they would know the truth.

"But what do you want from us?" Franky was the only one who seemed suspicious.

But then Luffy walked past the chef - pulling his straw hat deep in his face - and stopped right in front of Zoro.

"Luffy, what are you doing? You're scaring her.”

No, Franky, not him too. Although he was not wrong; Zoro did feel worried, maybe even scared. He had often dreamed of that moment and just like in his dream he could feel the tension, could feel how his world would break any moment.

Luffy stood in front of him, for a moment no one moved and then his captain grabbed him, grabbed Zoro's petite, weak body, wrapped one arm around his hip and held his hair with the other one.

For a second nothing happened at all, Zoro only saw the surprised faces of the other crew members, felt the warmth of his captain, inhaled his scent.

"Thank you." Softly, Luffy's voice sounded so calm and gentle, so unfamiliar, but never before had it had touched Zoro more, had reached him deeper.

Luffy had recognized him, had already recognized him before he had explained himself to him. Luffy had never given up on him, Luffy had never ceased to believe in him.

"Luffy," Zoro whispered as he burst into tears. "Luffy!"

He clutched his hands into his friend's back, never wanted to let go of him while burying his face in his shoulder.

Luffy was strong, Luffy was strong, but it was more than that. Luffy accepted him as he was, did not even question what had happened. All what mattered to Luffy was that Zoro had returned.

Only now did he realize how much he had been afraid of that moment, how much he had been afraid of Luffy, of his captain, of his friend.

But Luffy saw him, and that filled him with gratitude, relief, and joy.

Suddenly the other let go of him and Zoro noticed that he, Roronoa Zoro, was crying here in front of the assembled crew. He quickly tried to cover the evidence of this shame.

"We should celebrate," Luffy explained excitedly. "Sanji, take the..."

“Wait!" He had spoken before he even knew what had happened. At last Zoro was home, finally he had arrived. "I need to talk with you. Alone."

He had made a decision.

"Wait what? Listen up, honey. Whatever you gotta say, you can say in front of all of us.”

He barely heard Usopp talk. He realized what he had just decided. He lacked the air to breathe.

But Luffy sounded light-hearted as always: "Sure, no problem. You guys go inside and wait for me."

"One moment. I don’t leave you alone with him.”

Zoro heard the uncertainty in the cook's voice.

"Yes, we all stay!" Oh, little, naive Chopper.

He couldn't tell them; how would he even be able to tell them...

“No!" Luffy's voice was unusually serious. “We're not in danger and that was no request. You go inside and close the door. That's an order.”

For a moment it was dead silent, but then the cook spoke: "Aye, captain," and so the others left.

Zoro stayed behind with his now silent companion and the captain of the Straw Hats, who still grinned at him so innocently.

"So?" The younger one asked.

But how could Zoro tell him? For another time he had the feeling that his body did not obey him. Nothing happened the way he had planned.

"What’s going on?" Luffy asked with big eyes and an even bigger smile.

He had to say something, he had to tell him.

"Your swordsman’s alive!", It burst out of him, "I... Zoro lives! But he can't return, not yet at least."

He couldn't say it. He could not say that he was Zoro, after all he was not Zoro, at least not yet, not completely.

“Your swordsman is still too weak. He’s not who he’s supposed to be. But if you can wait, if you’re willing to wait, he will return, he will come home. You have to believe me. This is a promise!”

It hurt, it hurt unbelievably. But he had decided.

"Wait here." That was all the other said before Luffy turned around and followed the rest of their crew into the dining room.

Slowly, Zoro realized what he had done, what he was about to do.

He had finally returned home, finally returned to his crew, his friends, his family, and now he would leave them, not because he wanted to, but because he hoped it was the right thing to do, it had to be the right thing to do.

Luffy accepted him as he was and he was also incredibly strong, but Zoro had to realize that Luffy alone was not enough.

Never again would he be able to forget this expression with which the chef had observed him, this desire, this longing, which was not for him but for an artificial character that Zoro had created and somehow was.

He didn't know why Luffy had left or what was awaiting him, but suddenly the door opened again, and his captain rushed towards him, Zoro’s three most precious treasures in his arms.

"They miss their master."

He could feel the three swords recognizing him, could feel how they greeted him, after such a long time. Wado-Ichi-Monji almost sparkled with sheer gratitude that he had returned alive. Shuusui greeted him sublimely and paid its respect. Even Kitetsu seemed to show a mischievous cheerfulness.

"Thank you," Zoro whispered. Finally, he was able to hold them, finally he was complete again.

"Sure thing," Luffy laughed, "and don't worry. I can wait. We all can. No matter for how long or for what reason."

Zoro had made a decision and Luffy understood.

There was nothing more to say, although he still wanted to say so much. He turned away from his captain, away from the place where he belonged, and then he looked at Mihawk. Something in him was pleased with this rarely seen expression of confusion on the older one’s face, but the rest of him felt cold and deaf.

"Let's go."


	5. Chapter 1 - Zero

Chapter 1 - Zero

-Zoro-

Hawk Eyes kept speaking, talking a blue streak, a true flood of words.

He talked about Rishou Eizen, about concealed conversations, about binding treaties, about impending wars, about Lady Loreen, and about him.

Zoro let him talk, didn’t bother stopping him.

Slowly, he walked behind the relentlessly babbling Shichibukai, followed him through the side streets of the small village, so that they wouldn’t have to cross the always bustling marketplace Sasaki’s.

His gaze was stubbornly fixed at his swords, which the other one had thrown over his back. There they hung right next to the Black Sword, Kitetsu mocking, Shuusui calm, and Wado-Ichi-Monji worried.

He was not even allowed to wear his own swords, too big of a risk that anyone could see the connection between Lady Loreen and Roronoa Zoro.

By the early evening, they had finally reached the island, had lasted the long, uncomfortable journey, while Hawk Eyes had been talking all the time.

Even now he spoke, with his irritating, deep voice. Zoro had never heard him talk so much, but although he was incredibly annoyed, he lacked both, energy and will, to silence the other one.

It was easier to let the other one keep babbling, this way at least Zoro didn’t have to talk himself, and that was the one thing he wanted even less than having to listen to the other’s non-stopping monologue.

All he really wanted was some heavy liquor to numb his senses, to dull his pain, to fill the silent emptiness. All he wanted was to get wasted to the point of unconsciousness, so that his numb mind would stop thinking.

But Mihawk was still talking, his words a touch faster than usually, his choice of words a little more reckless than usually, but Zoro decided to ignore that. He knew the other one - better than both would admit - better than he should after only a month. It would be easy for him to analyze the feelings of the Shichibukai, but he didn't want to do that, not right now, when he felt so numb himself.

It was strange in this female figure, at first Zoro hadn’t been able to stop these cursed tears. Now they had finally faded and almost at the same time his feelings had failed their service, had retreated into the back of this small body, and had left him alone. But instead of desired rationality and calmness, there was only numbness and emptiness.

"Are you listening to me at all?" The other turned halfway to him as they reached the edge of the village, raising an eyebrow and slightly puffing his thin lips.

Zoro nodded only half-heartedly, although he hardly gave the other one his attention.

Hawk Eyes sighed softly: "It is important that we come up with something concerning Eizen, Roronoa. You have to be cautious now, after all..."

"I don't care about the guy." Zoro's otherwise soft, gentle voice was rough as sandpaper, scratching his throat. It was the first time he had spoken since accepting the invitation of the other to accompany him to Mary Joa.

What else should he do? After all, he couldn't go back, not yet.

"What are you talking about? Eizen is very influential and no one to declare as an enemy on a whim. I thought the problem would have died with Lady Loreen, but how things are now..."

"I don't care," he repeated, ending the discussion.

He didn't want to think about any politician now, not about negotiations, and certainly not about Lady Loreen, not about Loreen at all.

„Roronoa!“ Hawk Eyes had stopped and turned to him, his hard gaze relentlessly directed at Zoro, even in the shadow of the forest these eyes captured every light and shimmered in cold gold. "Stop pitying yourself."

"What do you want? Leave me alone."

He tried to pass the other, but the other one grabbed his wrist and of course Zoro couldn't free himself. How he cursed his weakness!

"Get yourself together, Roronoa, it was your decision, and no one forced you to. If it was a mistake, tell me. I can still take you to the Sabaody Archipelago today."

"No!"

"Then stop bathing in self-pity. What has happened has happened. Times are too dangerous to be overwhelmed by feelings. It is also very rude to pretend that my company is the worst thing that has ever happened to you just because you miss your crew."

Angry, he looked at the Shichibukai.

"Don't give me any speeches! You're just glad I've decided to stay with you!"

The hawk eyes grew big and the other let go of him.

Zoro turned around and continued to chase along the tiny path. He hadn’t planned to say that. It simply had burst out of him.

After a moment, the dark voice of the Shichibukai echoed behind him.

"Did you even make a decision?" The other one had no problems catching up with him. "Did you even choose anything here? Did you choose me over your crew?"

Zoro ignored him and just kept going.

"Or are you not simply here because it was easier for you than to tell them the truth?!"

No! He had left so that he could become a man again! Just for this reason! That was the only reason he had left! Because he was too weak as a woman! Because he was too weak as Loreen!

There was no other reason! Because he had left, he would soon be able to transform himself back, he was sure.

The Dracule family's threatening mansion appeared in front of him.

The other one was wrong!

"You have no idea what you’re talking about," Zoro roared, throwing the little gate to the front yard open.

"Of course not," Hawk Eyes growled and walked past him, obviously losing his otherwise always present calmness and composure, "leaving your own crew behind. Pushing away your own friends. Bowing to overpowering rules. Of course, I have no idea about that."

Zoro stopped while the older one opened the door.

He knew Mihawk's past, at least part of it. He knew that Mihawk had given up his freedom to free some of his crew, that Mihawk had disbanded his crew to save them, to spare them the chains of the Marines.

"Your Lordship, you are back?" The housekeeper's voice shattered the tense air as Kanan appeared in the hallway. "But, but my child, you're back."

Zoro really didn’t want to explain anything to anyone right now.

"Looks like it," he grumbled, squeezing his way past her.

"But Honey..."

"Kanan," she was immediately interrupted by Hawk Eyes as Zoro rushed to the stairs, "please pack everything our guest will need for a trip to Mary Joa. In the meantime, I will take care of the formalities."

Zoro swirled around.

The cool eyes of the Shichibukai glared at him, the housekeeper looked back and forth between them, probably aware that something was going on.

"As you wish, Sir," she muttered.

But Mihawk continued to stare at Zoro.

"Go change now, Roronoa."

He acted like nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed in his plan, but his eyes revealed how angry he was.

If Zoro himself weren't so angry, he might would have thought about having to pay attention to his choice of words, because he knew how sensitive the Shichibukai was if it came him.

But honestly, he just didn't care.

Yes, he had decided, yes, he had decided not to go with his crew, but not because it was the easier way, not because he wanted to stay here – because he certainly didn't want that – but only to become a man again.

So why did this idiot have to accuse him of such a thing?

"You are no one to boss me around!"

With these words he stomped up the steps, the disapproving snorting of the elder behind him, who, however, did not follow him.

Now Zoro was back here again, on Sasaki, in this life.

With a kick, he closed the door to the guestroom behind him, dropped the small bag with his belongings to the ground next to it. Careful he took Josei off his belt and pulled it out of its saya. He hadn't had time to clean it after the fight and he really should do that now. Such a sword deserved sensible care.

He would also like to take care of his own swords, but the Shichibukai had taken them with him and Zoro would certainly not go back to him right now and stare at this annoying idiot.

He pulled the cleaning kit, the Shichibukai had given him, out of his small bag and dropped down on the bed.

Zoro knew he was wronging the other, but he didn't care.

He wanted to be angry, wanted to be hurt, and he wanted to blame someone. He wanted to blame someone for his crew members not recognizing him, for him not telling them the truth, for him being trapped in that weak body.

Angry, he stared at the sword in his hand.

Mihawk was right. He shouldn't indulge in useless emotion. No matter why he had not returned to the others, he was here now, back on Sasaki. He couldn't turn back time. In addition, all of this might really help him to get his actual body back.

He had to get stronger, strong enough to no longer having to be protected by anyone and he was most likely to reach that under the strict eyes of Hawk Eyes.

Heavily sighing, he put the used rice paper aside and took the powder tassel in his hand.

He hadn't imagined it that way. He could still see the cook in front of him, staring at him. Zoro shook his head.

If all went well, he would probably need only a few weeks, oh what, maybe only a few days. After all, he had learned a lot during the last month. If he were to finally transform himself and would use what he had learned during the last month in his original body, then no one would be able to match him.

Once again, he exchanged powder tassel for rice paper and carefully drew along the blade, looking for any possible scratches, but finding nothing. This sword had always been well treated.

From the bed he looked over to the small dresser on which a small mirror stood, once there had been a large mirror in this room, but he had destroyed it.

No, Zoro knew that was not true.

Yes, they were good, Luffy, he, the others, but if he was honest, he had already known the truth a month ago, maybe even longer.

They had been captured, they had all been captured. Their three strongest fighters, he, the cook, and their captain, had been crushed. The cook had hardly been able to do anything at all, had been knocked out with one stroke. Luffy had fought Hakkai, the head of the G-6 Marine base, and had been so badly injured afterwards that he had been unconscious for days.

And Zoro himself, well, he had fought against the Marine's best swordsman, Homura, and had been innocuously inferior to him. In the end, he had even died from those wounds...

No, if Zoro was really honest, he was not sure at all if they could survive the New World as strong as they were now. He remembered Mihawk's words when he had told him that a swordsman without Haki would not last on the other side of the Red Line.

But if even he as one of the stronger crewmembers wouldn't make it, then it looked even worse for the others.

Slowly he put Josei back in its sheath and put the other stuff away. The inspecting look, he usually used for each of his sword after cleaning them, was unusually short this time.

Again, he watched his reflection and got up.

He tried to understand what his confused thoughts were trying to tell him. But this was just madness. It was just this body stopping him. Only this weak body, which had made his crew members look at him so unfamiliar, so strangely.

Precisely for this reason, only for this reason he was here again, only to become himself again.

If he were to transform now, if he were to become Zoro again right now, he could still travel to the Sabaody Archipelago today and join them again. He just had to find enough strength, that was all that the second step, the transformation itself, needed, wasn't it?

He tensed up, tried to gather strength, as if he were getting ready for a big attack. Tried to imagine how he became himself again.

But nothing happened. When he looked up, he was still looking at these huge, childlike eyes in the mirror.

"Damn it!" He hit the dresser, which groaned but nothing else under his little fists. The mirror trembled menacingly.

He didn't get rid of those stares, heard the voices of his friends praising him, no, praising Lady Loreen. He would never be able to tell them the truth, they were never allowed to find out that he was Lady Loreen.

"Damn it!"

He had decided to take this step, so why did he feel so miserable now? Why did it feel so wrong?

"Damn it!"

Why did he have these doubts? Why did he think that even in his real body he would still be too weak?

"Damn it!"

Why was he so unspeakably angry? So mad at the others, at Mihawk, at himself?   
Why did he struggle so much with his decision? Why was it so difficult for him to see what he had known a long time ago?

"Fucking damn it!"

"What are you doing?"

He jumped around. Hawk Eyes stood in the door frame and looked down at him, a confused but also slightly annoyed expression on his face.

Zoro looked away.

"Have you taken care of whatever you needed to?" He asked instead of answering.

"It is difficult to have a conversation when a child is raging in the opposite room."

Ashamed, he turned away without replying.

"You still look like an assassin," Mihawk continued the conversation, nodding at Zoro's black clothes. He sounded calm like always, but there was still a slight tension. "You should change and come to my office afterwards. We still have a lot to talk about."

With this, the other turned around to go, despite his calm tone it was obvious that their argument had not passed him without a trace.

"I didn't care," Zoro finally admitted.

"Excuse me?" Mihawk turned to him again, but Zoro still looked away.

“I didn't care if I was going to turn back or not. That's not why I didn't go with them.”

For a moment it was quiet. Zoro didn't know why he had even talked just now.

"So why did you?"

He didn't know what to answer, so it stayed silent for minutes without any of them speaking, eventually he lowered his head.

“I'm sorry for what I said on our way back. I was angry and I ignored my position in our agreement."

Again, simple silence.

"Your position?"

He said nothing but waited.

The elder snorted softly: "Really, Roronoa. Sometimes you are like a riddle wrapped up in an enigma for me. I do not understand you and do not understand neither your motives nor your intentions.”

Surprised, Zoro looked up. He didn't feel like he was a big secret. Perhaps it was simply because he himself was not able to grasp what was going on within him.

"Are you apologizing because you really regret your behavior or because you are afraid that I might throw you out and you would have nowhere else to go?"

The other still sounded extremely admonishing. Zoro dared to meet his eyes.

"You wouldn't throw me out," he finally said after a few seconds.

"Oh, I would not?" Mihawk raised an eyebrow.

"No." Zoro folded his arms. "Kanan would kill you."

The other man tilted his head in disbelief and said nothing at all, but only slightly shook his head.

"So why, Roronoa?" Mihawk asked again, folding his arms as well. "Why did you go with me when it was not for becoming a man once again?"

This time he looked at the other one directly. Even before Zoro knew what to say, he answered: "Because you were right. Because I finally understand it."

The other nodded slowly.

"And because you see me."

He was aware that this statement confused the other, Mihawk put his head slightly to one side and narrowed his eyes.

"Because I see you?"

Zoro nodded. It was the honest answer, the whole truth. He had finally understood it.

"What do you mean with that?"

He did not respond but looked away.

"That means you have decided?" These yellow eyes looked at him pervasively. "Not for your body, but against your crew and for me?"

"No!" He replied irately. "I have decided to become stronger before I will return to them. That has nothing to do with my body or with you. Nothing to do with you at all!"

In spite of his biting comment, the other one didn't look nearly as unapproachable as he had just a few seconds ago.

Mihawk nodded again. "And still..." He walked to the door. "Despite this, you stayed because I can see you. Whatever you mean by that."

Quietly, the door closed. A stunned Zoro was left behind. Dismayed by his own words, by what has just happened, and stunned by the Shichibukai.

Slowly, the anger ebbed within him.

He had made up his mind.

No one was to blame, no one could blame the situation, but he had decided and now he was back at the beginning.

Now he had to deal with it

Shaking his head, he began to get dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first real chapter, a little start before we really get into it. I hope you enjoyed it so far, although not that much has happened (yet)
> 
> But before we reach Mary Joa I have a question for you guys. I was told that Friday is an inconvienient day for some readers to upload my fic and I was also asked if I might be able to update twice a week.
> 
> I have given this a long thought, and although I cannot promise anything, I might be able to do so, but because of my real life schedule I can either update Friday or Thursday and/or Sunday, so please let me know what you, the reader, prefers, because if I'm already sharing my work, I want to make sure you actually have the time to enjoy it ;-)
> 
> Depending on your answers I will decide by next week if I keep updating by old schedule or change to another one.
> 
> Thank you all for reading ;-)


	6. Chapter 2 - Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> thank you for all the feedback I got on this site and on others. I will stay with the weekly update for now, until I feel more confident about keeping up with my schedule.
> 
> Thanks for your lovely comments and kudos, have fun with the next chapter ;-)

Chapter 2 – Point of View

-Mihawk-

Absently, he turned his desk lamp on and off, bored by his current conversation partner, the silent click almost more interesting than the dialog.

A few seconds ago, he had finally received the expected recall from Mary Joa and now he organized the necessary formalities, but actually he was dealing with completely different things.

He had not expected the day to turn out like this and it was very rare that he was mistaken with his expectations.

Roronoa's irritated mood was understandable, not pleasant, but understandable, and who was he to let himself be influenced by the mood swings of an uneducated child?

Nevertheless, he was confused that the other had decided to not return to his crew. After all, that had been the plan. After all, they had not worked towards anything else during the last month.

Mihawk could not deny that this unplanned surprise did not displease, and yet he could not deny that Roronoa's parting from had crew had moved him. He did understand the pain of having to lie to his own friends and of having to let them go.

He felt sorry for Roronoa, well apparently, he really had grown soft. That was actually the problem. Usually, Mihawk was very good at predicting and exploring other ones’ feelings and motives.

But Roronoa had always surprised him, straight from the beginning, had always behaved differently than he had calculated, and the better Mihawk got to know the other, the less he could predict his actions.

However, the undesirable presumption seemed to slowly confirm that this problem was not due to the unpredictability of the youngster – because everyone's actions were predictable, even his own – but because of Mihawk himself, because of him and his relationship to the other.

He sighed and answered insignificant questions from the official at the other end of the line.

But although he was pleased in a certain way that the younger one had asked him to train him a little longer, to take care of him a little longer, he could not hinder being surprised about the reasons behind the other one’s decision.

_And because you see me._

What an odd reason.

What exactly did Roronoa mean by that?

"I see..."

"Excuse me?"

Confused, he noticed that he had just thought aloud and that the employee on the other side of the line apparently felt addressed.

"Would you like to have a transmission snail installed for Lady Loreen so that she can receive the Marines’ channel, your Lordship?"

It was only now that he realized that he was still in a conversation.

"Of course," he replied briefly, "my guest would of course like to be informed of all events in the world."

His interlocutor agreed and assured him that he would take care of everything.

Mihawk did not address this any further but focused on the next topic. His thoughts, however, were already leaving the conversation.

Roronoa could not possibly have meant the ability to see, right?

No, it had to be about something personal, one reason why the other one had stayed here. If he did not care if he would ever turn back into his original body, why had he not returned to his friends?

Was it because of something Mihawk had said, or were Roronoa's friends responsible for it?

_Because you see me._

So, it was obvious that he could _see_ the younger one, unlike his friends.

"Oh, I see," he muttered when he finally understood. Today it took him an unusually long time for things that were so obvious.

"Yes, of course, your Lordship," replied the employee, who could not even guess Mihawk's inner course of thought, "if you wish, we will of course do as you ask."

Again, he was annoyed with himself for not paying attention.

"No thanks, this won't be necessary," he replied, before being connected to Vice Admiral Tsuru a few seconds later, who organized the upcoming War Council.

He had regarded the situation from the wrong point of view.

Having taught Roronoa the ability to see, which meant that the user was able to recognize and predict the movements of another, he had assumed that the other had referred to that in some form.

Of course, Mihawk had not told Roronoa what this ability really was about, but they would talk about that soon enough.

That was why he had believed that his little frog had been talking about this ability, he had thought that Roronoa could have been able to realize what Mihawk had been keeping from him.

But he had been wrong. Perhaps Roronoa’s decision was not at all about the strength of his crew, perhaps not even whether they could protect him as Loreen or not. Perhaps he had meant something else, something that was so self-evident to Mihawk that he had not thought about it at all.

Roronoa was a proud man and, in some form, even vain. He had forced strict rules on himself to become the person he wanted to be, but also to make sure that the self-image he had of himself was true.

Mihawk understood this view, he was similar in many ways, and so he could understand how important it had to be for the other to hold on to this self-image. It was important for Roronoa to live up to his self-image.

But of course, Roronoa’s new figure did not want to fit into that perception at all. The lovely Lady Loreen, who was liked and admired by everyone, who had to be protected and conquered, who was gentle and kind, all these things did not fit his self-image. All these things that were told about Lady Loreen were not Roronoa's qualities and, of course, Roronoa had also noticed by now that he, as Loreen, had this inexplicable gift of gaining the trust of strangers no matter his words and deeds.

But with Mihawk, that ability did not seem to work. For him, Roronoa was Roronoa, no matter what shape he took or how much he changed, and that was exactly what the other had meant, the other must have meant.

Mihawk could see him.

"You seem to be very absentminded today, Hawk Eyes."

Slowly he raised his head and looked at his old transponder snail.

"What makes you believe that, Tsuru?"

The old woman laughed softly. "Your concern for Lady Loreen stands above everything else, am I mistaken?" She replied instead.

"I shoulder my responsibilities diligently; you should be aware of that."

"Oh, really?" She replied with false surprise. "And I thought I knew you."

"Please let us return to the essential. This chatter is a waste of time."

"That sounds a lot more like you."

They continued their conversation.

But his thoughts were still with his little frog.

In conclusion this meant that Roronoa had not stayed with his crew because he thought they could not _see_ him? Because he believed that they could not understand him or because he could not trust them? Or did Mihawk interpret too much into his words? Was it perhaps something completely different?

He sighed deeply. Why was it so hard for him to identify Roronoa's motives?

"Do you also want me to set up guards to protect your companion?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Useless Marines should guard Roronoa? That sounded like a joke.

"No, it won't be necessary. I do not assume that there is any danger to my guest in the Holy Land, or am I mistaken?"

It knocked on the door and Roronoa stuck his head in.

Mihawk noted him to enter, quite surprised that Roronoa had even knocked. Since when did the other one pay attention to manners?

"Well, if I'm honest, I can't quite understand why you want to take a defenseless girl to a war zone." Tsuru sounded truly worried but also a bit disdainful. "Mary Joa is not evacuated for nothing. It's too close to Marineford."

Roronoa leaned against the desk and looked at him with serious eyes, not saying a word.

"Your concern honors you, Tsuru, but I think I am able to take care of the well-being of my companion," he replied coolly, looking at his little frog.

Roronoa wore oversized floral t-shirt and wide trousers. He had not done anything about his hair, which was flying into every direction, like the mess it was.

So, he could see him? 

"Oh, by all modesty, Hawk Eyes, that may be true for the next few days. But what is when the war begins? Don't you think it makes sense to second some soldiers to protect the young lady while you're on the battlefield yourself?"

He made eye-contact with Roronoa, who listened quietly, raising an eyebrow in obvious doubt.

"I hardly believe that the seat of the World Government will be stormed in the course of the war. Unless the enemy is in fact capable of defeating us all, and if that is the case, I do not assume that a few minions will be able to protect my companion."

For a moment, the woman on the other side of the line was silent, but when she spoke it was clear that she was losing patience: "So let me repeat myself, Hawk Eyes. I think it is reckless and naive of you to take a child to the scene of a war and strongly advise against it. Lady Loreen may be an entertaining playmate for you, but attention-seeking fashion dolls have no place in a crisis area."

Mihawk could not prevent a grin. Tsuru was a wise woman, wise by her age and capable of fighting, but years in an administration dominated by men had made her condescending towards women who did not try to assert themselves in that male world.

He thought about answering, but it seemed as if Roronoa wanted to take matters into his own hands. Irritated, his little frog cleared his throat, his lips pursed. Clearly, Roronoa would not stand for such an accusation.

The eyes of the transponder snail widened in surprise.

"So, you really think that I would put my own security at risk only for a few pictures in the newspaper? Do you really accuse me of using meaningful world events as an excuse to travel to Mary Joa, at a time when even the World Aristocrats are being evacuated from there?"

Oh, Roronoa managed to amaze him again and again. Usually the youngster was too ungallant for such tactical refinements, often stumbling awkwardly like bull at a gate or being too direct for strategic tricks.

But just now, despite his cracked ego, he had found fitting words.

"Lady Loreen," Tsuru greeted Roronoa without even the slightest hesitation in her voice. "Not at all, young lady, but please do not hold it against me that I have a hard time understanding why a civilian like you would like to come to Mary Joa in the face of a war and without further notice. We are not the citizens' center here. You cannot come and go as you please. Even if you would be allowed to visit you will not be able to join any meeting and of course cannot travel close to the Marineford. So why do you take on such hardships and jeopardize your own safety?"

He watched Roronoa, watched if he had to intervene - after all, Tsuru was an experienced strategist - but once again Roronoa surprised him.

Roronoa sighed and rolled his eyes. Mihawk was not sure if the other even noticed his sigh was already enough to break any resistance.

"You are right, for a civilian the scene of a fight is probably no place to be." Roronoa's carelessly soft voice left Tsuru defenseless. “But a war concerns us all and I'm not going to close my eyes while thousands of brave men and women risk their lives for our safety. Besides, I don't need to be afraid for my safety, do I? Even if the war had fatal consequences, Mary Joa has nothing to fear, right? After all, the Marines are the guardians of justice and will win, aren’t they?"

Roronoa probably wanted to seem hostile, but Loreen's voice managed to make his serious words sound like naive honesty without any evil will, whether he had intended to do so at all?

Even Mihawk threatened to fall for him, even though he saw the serious look, knew exactly who the other was.

"Of course, the Marines will win," Tsuru replied one breath too quickly. "Well, contrary to my concerns, I will accept your request, Hawk Eyes, and look forward to officially welcome you at Mary Joa tomorrow, Lady Loreen. If you would apologize, I have a lot of work to do."

She didn’t even give them the opportunity to reply; the connection died with a quiet _gotcha._

Mihawk could not stop smiling.

"You did well, Roronoa. You're getting better and better, even I wanted to believe you."

"So why do you really want me to come to Mary Joa?"

The blunt contrast of their voices surprised him.

He was calm and delighted, but the youngster sounded tough and controlled.

Oh yes, Mihawk had almost forgotten that there was still tension between them. What had they been arguing about again?

"Very well," he replied, getting serious. “it is obvious that Eizen has an increased interest in Lady Loreen and whether you like it or not, but I think it makes more sense if you stay in my immediate vicinity.”

"So, you want me to come to Mary Joa just so that you can keep me under control?"

Sometimes he forgot how direct the other could be and he probably was not totally wrong.

Shaking his head, Mihawk tried to steer the conversation into the right direction. Roronoa was still irritated and the subject demanded a cool head.

“I doubt anyone could keep you under control. I just want to avoid that Eizen sends his henchmen after you. He will not dare as long as I am close to you."

_Your protection over these islands and your protection over Lady Loreen only goes so far. Do not forget that._

EEjHe had not forgotten Eizen's words. This threat was not one he would underestimate.

However, this was not his only reason. Roronoa's aversion to use Haki had still caught his interest, and he hoped that the other would accept the need for this ability if he saw how the world's most powerful could fight.

But the other one just shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't care," he repeated the words he had said when they had returned home.

"And I think this is a very shallow-minded attitude."

Roronoa looked directly at him.

Once again, Mihawk was terrified of how easily the other could withstand his gaze. He had almost gotten used to it, but after today's events, he became aware again. It was unusual for him that someone was willingly keeping eye-contact with him.

"I'm not stupid, got it? Why should I deal with any random politician who I don’t care about anyway? I have more important things to do."

Surprised, Mihawk looked at the younger man, who continued scornfully: "Eizen's influence comes from being able to put people under pressure. He finds out what is important to people and uses it against them. Even someone like you can be controlled by him for he knows your weak points: Your title, these islands, even me."

Roronoa was too serious to tease Mihawk right now. Although Mihawk had been unaware that his worries about the youngster were really that obvious to others, Roronoa was not saying it to make fun of him right now.

Thoughtfully, Mihawk folded his arms.

"And he has nothing to pressure your with?" He asked, dismissing his thoughts.

The other shook his head slightly but looked out the window.

"No, of course not. What could he use? He doesn't know anything about me. All he knows is my connection to you. But no matter what he wants from me, Lady Loreen can never be important enough to threaten a contract between a Shichibukai and the five elders, so he has nothing against me."

"Because the only thing he could really put use against you would be your crew."

The other one just nodded.

"Not bad, Roronoa. You impress me today, really. Your repartee towards Tsuru was also refreshing. Lady Loreen looks at the world with concern, the press will be thrilled."

"That wasn't played," murmured the other in a bad mood.

"You meant seriously what you said?"

"War does concern us all. You yourself said that the world will not be the same after that. I would be stupid to not watch from the front row. Also..."

The other fell silent and brushed his hair away.

"Also what?" Mihawk asked attentively.

Slowly he got up and walked around the desk.

He had been surprised that the other wanted to stay with him after Roronoa had finally returned to his crew. He had not been prepared for it and it had... it had unsettled him. After that he had not been sure how to deal with Roronoa.

Mihawk himself had not been so quiet at that day, long it the past. Wrong, he had been much calmer. He recalled the moment they had released Jiroushin and Egan from Impel Down. Remembered how his vice-captain and ship doctor had walked towards him. He had known it was the right decision, had not doubted it for a second, and yet had known that it felt wrong. He remembered how they had greeted him, but the warmth of their embraces had not reached him.

Mihawk had lost his self-respect that day, had disappointed himself, had taken years to get out of this low. It was not easy to betray one's own principles, even if it happened for the right reasons.

He was uncertain why Roronoa had chosen this path, but he suspected that the pirate was similar to his own former self.

Considering that, the youngster reacted quite moderately. The other one had accepted it much better than Mihawk himself would have accepted.

He thoughtfully glanced at Roronoa’s wanted poster.

"Also," the other said after an eternity, "I want to know how big the gap is."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow but did not turn around.

"What gap?" He asked calmly. He really had to get used to the fact that he was underestimating the other one over and over again.

"The gap between you and me?" he added.

"That too," Roronoa muttered calmly, and Mihawk could hear the other walking through the room until he stopped next to him. "I want to know how strong the strongest are. I want to know how the strongest fight and... and whether we overestimate ourselves."

Surprised, Mihawk observed the younger, who looked at his wanted poster as well, this childlike face far too serious for the lovely Lady Loreen. Mihawk did not respond.

"Say," Roronoa muttered after a while, but whatever he wanted to say, the younger one did not speak any further, and Mihawk decided to stay silent as well.

For a long moment they stayed that way, the other took a breath and preparing to talk, but no word came out. Eventually, Roronoa sighed.

"Will it get better at some point?" He asked, though he obviously wanted to ask something else.

But Mihawk knew what he meant, believed he understood better than ever before. He nodded: "Yes, when you go back."

Roronoa stared at him, but he turned away and went back to the desk to put his transponder snail away.

Mihawk knew what the other one had actually wanted to ask and yes he knew the answer to it, after all he had made this experience himself. But he did not want to think about his past.

"But I am a little surprised," he said, steering the conversation into better directions and away from those memories, "I wonder how all this is going to help you get your original body back. I thought you were going to turn back."

The other did not respond. Roronoa had told him once that he could not tell Mihawk the details of his curse, and Mihawk had reluctantly accepted it.

"Just tell me if it has helped you."

Mihawk looked up and met this clear look of the younger.

"Yes."

"Then stop regretting your decision. You would never do anything you might regret. You said that, didn't you?"

He grinned over the other one’s surprise.

  
  



	7. Chapter 3 - Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so here's the next chapter, it's a little bit calmer, but don't worry things will get more exciting soon enough ;-P
> 
> Have a great weekend!
> 
> Sharry

Chapter 3 - Welcome

-Zoro-

He watched the Shichibukai over his cup. Mihawk read the newspaper and ignored the hustle and bustle around it.

But then he noticed Zoro's glare and looked up.

"Do you want to tell me something?" The elder asked and put the newspaper on the small table.

Zoro just shook his head and drank his cup empty. It was not like he liked to wait in this little café nor did he understand why they even had to, but even less did he want to talk to the older one, so he just stared at his cup and ignored him.

Hawk Eyes cleared his throat.

"What?" He grumbled, looking up.

"Never mind," Mihawk replied with a slight grin and picked up his newspaper again.

"Are you mocking me?"

"And incur your wrath on me? Oh, I would never dare,” Mihawk scoffed. Still, one corner of his mouth was twisted into a sneer, telling that the other one was obviously not in a bad mood.

Quite unlike Zoro. He had gotten almost no sleep and getting up early had put him over the edge.

Unnerved, he thought about whether that comment was worth a reply, but at that moment the door opened behind him and he could already guess who had come in by watching Mihawk’s face cool down.

The Shichibukai stood up, any mischievous facial provocation from before had been replaced by harsh seriousness.

"You are late," he scolded harshly.

Zoro also got up and turned to some Marine, who bowed deeply.

“My apologies, your Lordship," he said frantically, and straightened up again, sweat running down his large forehead. "If you would please follow me. My colleagues are already taking care of your luggage."

Zoro let the Shichibukai help him into his coat and then followed the soldier out of the small café where they had been waiting for the arrival of the warship that would take them to the Holy Land.

"I am not used to waiting," Hawk Eyes murmured scornfully.

"I'm really sorry. We had to take a detour..."

"Your excuses do not interest me. Bore someone else with it," Mihawk interrupted the soldier, and Zoro observed once again how much fear the elder could spread. He was surprised how quickly the good mood of the other had disappeared, almost too quickly.

Zoro shook his head slightly. The mood swings of the elder were certainly not his problems and besides, one way or another he kind of preferred the quiet, slightly cranky Shichibukai.

A man in a grey suit and Marines’ coat was waiting for them at the dock.

"Hawk Eyes," he greeted coldly, "Lady Loreen," and bowed narrowly.

"Mozambia, it is extremely rude to make my companion and me wait. I am not going to let that...”

"It was not even half an hour," Zoro sighed, interrupting the Shichibukai with a slight roll of his eyes.

He could see some of the soldiers around him freeze in whatever they were doing and looking over at him and the Shichibukai with big eyes.

"Don't make such a fuss about a few minutes. The War Conference is in three days from now, so we will definitely be on time."

Mihawk looked down at him, this cool, predictable expression in his eyes, and for a moment Zoro thought he could see the corners of his strict mouth twitching.

Then the Shichibukai nodded. "You are probably right." His unexpected approval was more than surprising. "Mozambia, I would like to leave as soon as possible and if someone could lead us to our lounge, please."

The Marine nodded sharply and then began to bark commands.

"Was that really necessary?" Zoro grumbled quietly to the elder. "Since when do you get all riled up about nonsense?"

"Have you not noticed?" Hawk Eyes replied calmly as they followed two soldiers below deck, who were unaware of their conversation.

"What?" For a moment their eyes met and this time Zoro could see the twisted grin of the elder again. He was clearly not in a bad mood.

"Well, the eyes of the soldiers."

The two Marines took them to a large and pompously furnished room, which left Zoro speechless for a moment. So much display and nimbus in one room almost hurt his eyes and he wondered which guests this warship would otherwise house.

As the door fell close behind them, Mihawk walked past him and pulled the curtains in front of the windows to dim the light. He then began to roam the room, picking up pictures and vases briefly.

"What was this farce for? Why did you want me to interrupt you? It makes you look weak," Zoro demanded to know after a while, as he watched the other wander through the room. He was irritated that Mihawk was weakening his own reputation, after all he wanted to fight him some day, therefore the other was not allowed to appear weak.

"Is that not obvious, Roronoa? To give you authority."

"What?"

The Shichibukai dropped onto a spacious sofa, far too relaxed for Zoro's taste.

"Of course. A woman, who is able to tame such a cruel Shichibukai as Hawk Eyes with nothing but words makes a good copy."

"But isn’t this exactly what Eizen wants? Isn’t he actually the one profiting of this stupid – and by the way totally annoying – act?"

Zoro folded his arms. He didn't like how things were developing.

"Only at first glance," replied the elder, "just as I only at first glance weaken my reputation. But the truth is that it gets him into a predicament."

Zoro also sat on one of the large sofas and straightened the light blue dress in his lap.

In a few hours they would reach Mary Joa. Yesterday he had still wanted to travel with his friends and now he was about to enter the heartland of the World Government. He really didn't like how things were going.

He sighed softly.

"And why only at first glance?"

"Think along. It will be difficult for Eizen to play us off against each other if the public approves our relationship. If I listen to your words and appreciate you, it actually does make me seem more approachable, which might weaken my reputation of being a ruthless criminal, but people want to see a relationship like this for Lady Loreen."

"Our relationship?" Zoro leaned back a little and couldn't prevent an offensive undertone.

"Well, that was exactly what your navigator was talking about. The World Aristocrat, who gave up her title for the man she loved. A monster, who rediscovered his humanity through the affection of a woman. What a tragic love story, exactly the drama that the masses want to see to distract themselves from their own dreary existence."

Zoro stared at the other in horror.

"Excuse me? A love story? Between us?! What the fuck…?"

The Shichibukai leaned back and pulled his hat deep down over his face.

"It is just a game, Roronoa," he said with a yawn, “a political game for power and influence. Eizen may have nothing against you, but as you have correctly noticed, this does not apply to all of us. So, if I have to play this game, at least I want to win it."

“So, you just drag me along and expect me to pretend we're a couple. Forget it!"

"Too late." The other looked at him from the shadow of his hat and threw his legs up. "Your character is already on the field."

Then Mihawk closed his eyes, the conversation had obviously ended for him. He didn't seem to care, like all of this was hardly worth his effort. Once again Zoro realized that the other had grown up in that world of lies and intrigue.

For a moment, he looked at the Shichibukai.

It was weird. Last night he had believed that he could read the other only too easily, and now he no longer understood the motives of the elder. It confused and unsettled him.

It was one thing to take on the role of Lady Loreen and pretend for an evening, but it was something quite different to be permanently in the public eye and to participate in political life. This was a world in which he did not belong and in which he had no plan of participating. So, what did the elder think, literally throwing Zoro into the shark tank?

On the other hand, Zoro knew only too well that they probably had no other choice. Things had developed like this. From the moment Zoro had left the Dracule estate as Loreen for the first time, events had gone out of control.

Who could have guessed that Eizen, of all people, would like him?

A series of unfortunate coincidences and unexpected eventualities had made it almost impossible for Lady Loreen to disappear. She was now too well known for simply vanishing.

Zoro sighed deeply and looked at the Shichibukai, who was already breathing calmly and relaxed, presumably asleep. Zoro, on the other hand, was really agitated. The tiredness of the morning had disappeared.

There was only one way to make Loreen disappear. Already the previous evening he had tried several times to transform himself, to leave this body behind, but it had not worked.

Actually, he should be strong enough to transform himself now that he had made a decision purely out of egoistical reasons. But he could not, as if he were too weak, as if he were unable to collect enough energy.

Additionally he found it difficult to concentrate, to find his inner peace through meditation. After all that had happened the previous day, he simply couldn't take a peaceful nap like the Shichibukai just did.

Mihawk's words worried him, he didn't want to be a pawn in some game, and he wouldn't settle for it as easily as the other.

What did Eizen have against him?

Zoro would not play along any longer. For a month it had been bearable, but...

How long would he have to keep up this farce? How long would he stay with the Shichibukai? How long would it take him to get stronger, strong enough?

"Six months should be enough," he whispered. Yes, that was a reasonable time frame, enough time in any case. But he didn't have that much time, he had to hurry up. Who knew how much time he had, who knew how long his friends would endure without him.

"Rather nine."

Surprised, he raised his head. Mihawk lay unchanged on the sofa, his hat pulled deep over his face.

"Nine?" Zoro asked.

He didn't know what surprised him more, that the other was not asleep, or that he had literally read Zoro's thoughts.

"At the end of the day, we would have to overcome your dislike of using Haki," replied the elder, his voice dull under the brim of the hat. "However, this discussion purely theoretical, after all, you want to get back to his crew as soon as possible. That is why there is no need to actually discuss how long your training would have to be."

Zoro leaned back and folded his arms. He didn't like how easy it was for the other to guess what Zoro was thinking about, and even more it bothered him that Miahwk had apparently come to a result within a few seconds, which he himself had been thinking about continuously.

"Thought you wanted to sleep?" He grumbled irritated.

"It is quite annoying when you stare at me all the time. Why not close your eyes as well for a few minutes and let me sleep, Roronoa?"

"How can you be so relaxed on a ship full of Marines, they could listen to us, right now."

The other laughed quietly under his hat.

"Such a worry is ridiculous. I am a Shichibukai, I enjoy immunity and besides, no one on this ship is even close to be a threat to me."

"And you sound like a fucking loudmouth again."

The other one just waved it off. "Why do you think I just searched the room, Roronoa? And now good night, we can continue fighting later."

The grin in his voice was all too noticeable.

Unnerved, Zoro leaned back. Since the last day, the other was in a really unusually good mood, even more annoying than normally.

At some point, Zoro also fell asleep. He had been much more tired than he had thought.

The last days had been exhausting, hard training from dawn till dusk and then of course the encounter with his crew. A roller coaster of emotions followed by a tiring numbness and then these unpredictable conversations with the Shichibukai.

Sometimes they were brisk and filled him with new energy, but sometimes they were nerve-wracking and irritated his patience. But no matter what the subject, their conversations were always intense and rarely insignificant.

Yes, Zoro had been exhausted and eventually he fell asleep, on this large sofa.

"Get up, sleeping beauty, we have arrived."

Surprised, he sat up.

"You plan on sleeping through the whole war?" Mihawk teased him.

Zoro looked around, for a moment he had forgotten where he was.

The Shichibukai no longer sat on the large sofa but stood just a few meters beside it and inspected a strange painting. It was only after a closer look that Zoro realized that it was a map, not a picture. He couldn't tell exactly what it was illustrating; cards had always confused him rather than showing him the way.

Then the other turned to him.

"We really should head on deck now."

"Are we already there?"

"Have you not heard what I just said? And what do you mean by already? Even on foot we would have arrived sooner than with this barge of a battleship."

"Why didn't we just take your coffin boat?" 

Zoro got up and stretched himself extensively. The small boat of the Shichibukai was much faster than any ship he had ever seen.

"And putting my precious ship under the care of the Marines? No, thank you."

Hawk Eyes inspected him.

"Ship? How can you call your shoebox a ship?" Zoro asked poisonously.

"Well, just as easily as you are claiming that you are already a true swordsman," replied the other just as mean, and Zoro had to admit that this answer left him a little defenseless.

"I'm a swordsman," he growled, noting that the other still looked at him so strangely. He had sounded much more defiantly than Zoro had intended.

"I know," replied the other with a soft smile, approaching him, "just like my coffin boat is a ship."

Zoro looked away but did not take a step back when the other stopped in front of him.

"Size is not everything, Roronoa." The other bent down to him. "My little shoebox can keep up with these Marine freighters with ease, and not just in terms of speed."

Zoro took this statement with a huff and slapped away the hand of the Shichibukai, who had tried to tame Zoro’s ragged hair.

Hawk Eyes let go of him and walked to the door.

"Now come on, Roronoa. The day is not getting any younger."

Zoro followed him out.

"You aren’t either."

The older one cleared his throat with a silent growl, yet without responding anything.

Outside, Zoro realized that they weren’t any longer at the open sea, but in some kind of tunnel.

"Invited guests arriving by battleship will be welcomed at the underground port. On one hand, this port is probably the best guarded in the world and on the other hand anybody can visit and leave without the public noticing anything about it." Mihawk's words echoed over the silence as they walked over deck. "Especially helpful if the invited guests are pirates."

The Vice Admiral, who was responsible for their crossing and whose name Zoro had already forgotten, awaited them.

Shortly, the Marine and the Shichibukai exchanged some insignificant words, apparently only to bridge the time gap. Incidentally, Zoro realized that he never had to talk to Hawk Eyes to bridge time. It never felt as forced as it felt now between the two tall men.

Eventually, they finally arrived.

The underground harbor had something fascinating about it, at least for someone who was interested in such a thing and who was impressed by representations of power and authority.

Colorful paintings and golden decorations decked the ceiling, the walls were littered with sculptures and works of art, and the floor itself was a huge mosaic, which was supposed to represent the Holy Land from above.

Zoro somehow found it all too big, too cheesy, and too unnecessary. Hardly any ships had docked and only a few people were present. Most of the few were World Government officials, who - in their black suits - hustled across the massive mosaic. Each of their steps reverberated in a different tone, so that the whole underground harbor was filled with sublime, yet wistful, melody.

One of these World Government officials was already expecting them, behind him a sparkish dressed woman with a camera.

She tripped non-stop, causing small, fast sounds that gave the ghostly song something alive.

"Let us show them how good your acting is today," the Shichibukai muttered next to Zoro as they approached the unequal couple, "after all, the world wants to see Lady Loreen."

The man bowed deeply, while the woman took photos.

"Welcome!" His voice was surprisingly deep. "Welcome to the Holy Land Mary Joa."


	8. Chapter 4 - Witness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff, guys,   
> I'm almost a little bit late (at least in my time-zone ;-P ), but work was really draining today and afterwards I had the chance to watch one of my favorite musicals finally online, so I'm writing this here actually while listening to the last beautiful notes.
> 
> Before we'll start let me thank you guys real quick for all those nice comments and kudos. I know sequels don't have it easy, but it makes me really happy that some of you stayed patient and some of you gave it a try.
> 
> Thank you guys and see you next week^^
> 
> Have fun

Chapter 4 - Witness

-Zoro-

A whole hour.

For an hour, he and Mihawk had followed the official of the World Government through long corridors and grand halls. An hour in which the reporter had tagged along, she had spoken little, asked hardly any questions and yet Zoro was glad to finally be rid of her. She had taken photos all the time, her colorful outfit even more dazzling under the light of the snobbish chandeliers.

The woman had almost chased Zoro and it was only when he had finally arrived in his room that the government official had slammed the door shut in front of her.

Well, room was probably the wrong term. The apartment was big enough to host a small party. A door to the left of the front door lead to an equally large bedroom and an equally overgenerous equipped bathroom.

Even the Dracule mansion looked bleak and simple compared to this pomp.

Zoro was uncomfortable. He couldn't walk one step without bumping into anything valuable, sit nowhere without being chased by the eyes of any paintings, and heavy perfume polluted the air.

"And here in this cabinet is the broadcast snail," the official continued his explanations about the room. "His Lordship’s chambers are, by the way, right next to yours. Through this wall door over there you can get directly into his rooms."

Zoro just nodded and made every effort to maintain his polite expression.

This guy was exhausting, he had even wanted to explain to Zoro, how to turn on the water in the shower, like Zoro weren’t able to figure out at least that on his own.

"Do you have any other question, Lady Loreen?"

He turned to the officer and tried to smile.

"No, thank you very much. I'm just exhausted from the journey."

The man of the government nodded immediately sympathetically.

"Of course, of course. If you need something, our transponder snail next to the door is for in-house connections, which you can also order food with." The official pointed from A to B and Zoro pretended to follow his gestures. "There is also the remote control for the broadcast snail."

He bowed deeply. "I will take my leave now."

Zoro exhaled deeply as the other finally left the room.

This was not what he had imagined to be the heartland of the World Government, he felt more like staying at some overpriced hotel – not that he had been in one ever before – and not like in an administrative building. It also confused him how calm everyone was, even though a war was about to happen. A war he had still no idea about, not even who the Marines’ opponent would be.

Exhausted, he dropped on one of the many sofas. Maybe it would be the best to just take a nap. It wasn't as if he could actually do something, so he leaned back and covered his tired eyes with his forearm.

For the next few days, he would spend most of his time in this room; at least in here he didn’t have to play Lady Loreen. However, as Hawk Eyes himself had to prepare for this war and training was unthinkable one way or another, it promised to be boring hours. Days in which he could do nothing but wait, stuck in this room, stuck in this body.

He sighed softly. It was early afternoon, Mihawk had suspected that his friends would arrive at the Sabaody Archipelago around now. The archipelago, which could be reached from here within a short time.

It dawned to him slowly, he was on the Red Line that parted the world, so close and yet so far away from his friends.

A dull knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm?" He grumbled, not even bothering to sit up.

Another silent knock bothered the silence.

"Come in," he murmured, simply guessing it was the Shichibukai.

Again, the other one knocked and then Zoro could hear Hawk Eyes’ muffled voice: "Yes, I would, if you would unlock the door."

Quietly grumbling, he rolled off the sofa, got up, and scuffled over to the half-hidden wall door. A silent click later, the door also opened and a slightly unnerved Shichibukai came in.

But what surprised Zoro more, was the naked chest he almost ran into. He hated his current height, quickly taking two steps backwards.

Hawk Eyes wore exactly the same outfit as when Zoro had first met him. It was exactly the same long coat he had worn at that time, exactly the same trousers, only the hat was missing, and just as then he didn’t wear a shirt, but just the cross around his neck.

But during the last few weeks Zoro had seen him almost only with a shirt and somehow it surprised him. He quickly turned away but couldn't prevent himself from blushing.

Damn female hormones.

"Have you forgotten your stuff at home or why are you running around half-naked?" He asked roughly, proud of how well the sarcasm covered his surprise.

The other looked at him for a moment with his eyebrows raised.

"Excuse me? Does it bother you?"

"Yeah right, like I care." Zoro waved it off, but his words and hand movements were a little too hasty. "But for the last month you've almost always ran around like a butler, so..."

Through the doorframe behind the Shichibukai, Zoro could see a room that resembled his lounge. At the end of it stood most of their luggage, including the box in which Hawk Eyes had stored Zoros swords and other belongings.

Still, Hawk Eyes looked at him with big eyes, obviously slightly confused.

"Well, that may be right," he agreed, "but I always wear this if there is the possibility of a fight." He sounded calm and somewhat bored, before shrugging his shoulders and walking past Zoro.

"A shirt in a place where it is in danger of being smeared with blood? No, I am not that tasteless," the elder continued a little smug, walking through Zoro's room, stopping by paintings and flowers, tipping them aside or lifting them up, much like he had done on the warship.

He had placed his sword next to the front door, and there it rested like a silent guard.

"You even wore shirts while training with me," Zoro growled, turning to the Shichibukai.

"Yes, so? Does that contradict my statement in any way?"

The other still walked through the room, touching passing tables and cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Zoro changed the subject instead of starting a new discussion.

"Making sure that your room is not bugged.”

„What?”

Now the other looked at him briefly.

"Of course. This here might be the wing available especially for us Shichibukai and is therefore not subject to any surveillance, but on the other hand..." The elder pulled a carpet to the side. "I do not trust Eizen at all."

Zoro watched the other without saying anything, on the ship the other had not been half as thorough. But after a few seconds, Zoro decided to let Hawk Eyes do what he wanted to and just watch the other one moving furniture and examining flower vases. But even after several silent minutes, he found nothing.

Suddenly, a quiet beep made Zoro look up and he noted a screen near the window lighting up in blue.

"What’s that?" He asked, looking at the flickering light. At first, he thought of a surveillance monitor like some Marine prisons had.

"The broadcast snail," Hawk Eyes replied calmly, settling down on the sofa on which Zoro had wanted to sleep a few minutes ago.

"What’s it for?" He joined the other but sat down on a roomy armchair.

The elder shrugged.

"There is a special channel through which the Marines distribute the most important and up-to-date news internally. At six o'clock in the morning and in the evening there is a broadcast, otherwise only if something important happens. For example, there was a live broadcast from the Buster Call at Enies Lobby."

"Really? Do you have one at home too?"

Hawk Eyes clicked his tongue annoyed.

"Roronoa, did you even listen? This broadcast is Marines’ exclusive. Of course, you can't receive it outside of Mary Joa or the Marine bases." Then the Shichibukai turned the device off again. "You should definitely watch the news tonight. It is not wrong to inform yourself about the enemy, and sometimes you get very interesting details that are hidden from the outside world."

Zoro observed the other, noting the way he phrased his adviced.

"Does that mean you won't be watching it today?"

Hawk Eyes nodded. "Exactly, I promised Tsuru to be present at the War Council of the Admirals as Adviser."

"Although you're a Shichibukai?"

The other laughed softly, but it sounded almost nasty.

"Be that as it may." Suddenly the other was serious again. "First of all, this means that I will not have much time for you today, so I would like to discuss something important. You seem to have calmed down a bit by now."

He straightened up and looked at the other wary.

"What about?" Zoro decided to ignore the small side blow, because it would lead to nothing but another useless discussion, and he rather wanted to know what the other wanted to discuss with him.

Hawk Eyes leaned a little forward and looked at him seriously.

"We have to agree on your goal. So far, it was clear that you would return to your crew after a month. But now you have decided to stay and as I told you during the journey I assume you need about nine months of intensive training to be able to hold your ground on the other side of the Red Line, but since you want to get back to your crew as soon as possible, we have to agree on a time frame. I have to schedule your practice, for that I cannot just have you go up and leave unexpectedly. You said you will stay as long as necessary but as briefly as possible and I ask you what that means."

In fact, Zoro was not at all surprised by this topic, as he had already thought a lot about it. He nodded slowly and folded his hands.

"I agree with you, but to be honest, I can't estimate it until I have my body back."

The elder shook his head dissatisfied.

"No, no, you will not just get away like this, Roronoa." Mihawk leaned even further forward and now their knees almost touched. "With such an inaccurate statement, you will not fob me off. For weeks you have been telling me you are on the right track, I thought yesterday would have been a good time for some magical fog to appear, but as it seems Lady Loreen is still sitting in front of me."

Zoro shrugged his shoulders and leaned back a little.

"Well, but until after the war everything will stay as it is, right? I mean, the way I get it, I can’t just disappear from here one way or another.”

"So, you want to tell me that even if you were to turn back immediately, you would not want to join your crew right away, who are currently on the Sabaody Archipelago less than half an hour away?"

Zoro looked away.

"I don't believe you," the elder continued.

"But that’s the way it is."

"Is it?"

Now Zoro looked up again.

“I never want to be in the position of not being able to protect my captain again and I have to get stronger for that. Therefore..." He hesitated for a moment. "As soon as I manage to transform myself give me another month."

The Shichibukai looked at him calmly. "All right," he agreed without hesitation.

"You don't even want to criticize my decision?" Zoro asked, astonished that the other came around so quickly.

"No, all I wanted was a time frame to work with and you gave me one. We both know that a month is far too short, but I understand your motives and I think a month should be enough to teach you the basics of Kenbunshoku Haki.”

"What? I told you I can't learn Haki!"

"And I told you that this is nonsense. In addition, you already mastered the basics."

"What?!" Zoro jumped up.

"Of course, and now calm down. What I taught you is called _seeing_ and it is in fact nothing more than a very weak form of Kenbunshoku Haki. But since you are so opposed to this ability, I decided to keep this little information to myself."

"Are you fucking serious?!" He felt his heart racing. "You can't just decide to do that by yourself! You have no right and even no idea..."

"You are probably right." The other interrupted him with calm words. "I have no idea why you keep fighting the necessity because you are not willing to tell me the truth. But it has already happened, you have already used this ability and to struggle with the past will not help you now."

He found it hard to breathe. Why the fucking hell did Hawk Eyes feel entitled to just do something like that? And how could he stay so calm now?

"Actually, I had planned to use these days here that we cannot spend with reasonable training to train you further in this field."

Zoro just stared at him.

"And now I would like you to calm down and sit down again. You make me feel uncomfortable.”

"I make you feel uncomfortable?" He asked disbelieving, but actually dropped back on his armchair.

But then he noticed how seriously the other still looked at him, he didn't make fun of him at all, he was quite honest.

"You can trust me, Roronoa. Trust me to know what I am doing."

Zoro bit his lower lip.

"But I don't know if you can trust me," he muttered finally.

Laughing, the Shichibukai stood up.

"Oh, Roronoa. You really are cute sometimes.”

„What?!“

Zoro got up again and followed the Shichibukai to the door, where the other took his sword. So why did he even have to sit down again?

"I think I might be back quite late tonight. Make sure to eat something healthy and rest a little bit, your ongoing stress hard to bear. I will check on you tomorrow morning."

With that he went and left Zoro behind mumbling: “Not like I need you checking on me.”

Once again, he was annoyed with himself and the other. He didn't like Hawk Eyes treating him like a child, treating Zoro like he was his subject, or making fun of him.

At the same time, Zoro could not deny that he felt comfortable with the other, despite all the nagging, the mocking, and the general bickering. Yes, he trusted the other one and he hated that he couldn’t even deny it, damn it!

Deep sighing, he lay down on one of the many couches and fell asleep within seconds.

A persistent beeping woke him up.

For a moment he looked around in confusion, realizing where he was. Outside it was still daytime, so he could be sure it wasn't evening yet; he couldn't have slept for a long time.

The annoying beeping didn't stop.

Annoyed, sleepy, and puzzled, he got up and tried to identify the source of the sound. After a few seconds, he noted the cabinet where the broadcast snail was hidden.

When he opened it, the beeping snail confirmed his presumption. It was screamingly read and seemed to be ringing the alarm for a long time already.

Zoro pressed the big black button on the snail's shell and suddenly the screen behind him flickered up in blue light.

But this time the screen also showed a white box. Within white letters flickered across the screen: _Riot on the Sabaody Archipelago! Rookies rebel against World Aristocrats!_

Under the box was a text with the latest news and a guide explained that he could either stop the transmission via the remote control or activate a live broadcast to the current location of the event. Zoro casually read that some Admiral had arrived wherever. 

Suddenly, his captain's name flickered across the screen. Zoro grabbed the remote control and pressed the red button.

For a few seconds nothing happened, but then a picture flickered up. He didn't know what to expect, but certainly he hadn’t expected to see that.

The snail, used to film what was happening, was obviously carried by someone, because the view was blurred and kept shaking before the picture suddenly became stable, but Zoro didn’t care about that. Slowly, he walked towards the screen.

The first thing he could see in the gradually sharpening image was the distinctive silhouette of the Shichibukai Bartholomew Kuma and although the image was only black and white, Zoro immediately knew who the two tiny figures in front of the Shichibukai were.

Closest to the video snail Usopp knelt on the floor, unmistakable with his long nose and curly head. On the edge of the screen to the right of him, Zoro thought he could make something out that looked like the remains of a second Bartholomew Kuma, but he didn't waste any more thoughts about it, but stared at the dark shadow who had jumped in front of Usopp. It was the cook.

And suddenly, without Zoro being able to see anything specific, the Shichibukai let his hand slide down and the cook was gone.

"What the...?" Confusion spread through him as he examined the edges of the screen for some sign that showed him where the Shichibukai must have hurled the cook.

Behind the Shichibukai he could see another big figure running, which he didn’t recognize, but Kuma continued to move towards Usopp.

Zoro couldn't see how far the Shichibukai was still away, but suddenly a long-limbed figure – who was probably Brook given the hair - jumped out of one side and attacked the Shichibukai and then... Brook was just gone.

"Where the...?"

He touched the screen while Kuma bent over Usopp, who as well vanished into thin air.

"No."

He stood there astonished, pressing his fingers against the screen as if he just wanted to dive through. The image flickered for a moment, as the snail was apparently thrown to the ground, laying on the side and showing Zoro a tilted picture.

Some men Zoro did not know showed up and fought against but also with his friends, suddenly the Shichibukai was back in the picture and with him Franky, but only for a short glimpse before he too was gone.

"No?"

Barely a second later, he had to watch the petite figure of Nami also disappear.

"No!"

In the background, a huge shadow appeared, and although no sound was transmitted, Zoro could hear the mourning cry from the creature's torn open mouth down to his marrow.

"Chopper," he whispered, and the Shichibukai disappeared from the picture.

At the same moment he saw Luffy running across his field of view, followed by someone else whom he could just barely shake off, and then the huge creature was suddenly gone.

"No! No, Chopper!"

He could still see Luffy running, but not what – or rather who – his aim was; who was he running towards?

"Robin?" But again, the Shichibukai emerged out of nothing.

Luffy stopped, his powerless outstretched arm falling down limply.

Zoro's whole body trembled when he saw his captain’s legs give in. That could not be! That was impossible! What was happening?!

Slowly, the Shichibukai approached Luffy, who was still kneeling on the ground.

"No!" Zoro screamed, banging against the screen. That couldn't be happening! "Run away, Luffy! Run!"

Again and again he slapped against the blue screen, his little fists right next to the tiny figure that represented his friend.

"No! No!" His voice broke, but he couldn't do anything when Kuma came to a halt in front of Luffy.

"No, Luffy!"

And then Luffy was gone.

The glass broke under Zoro's fingers and the screen flipped over.

He was just standing there, his body shaking, his jaw trembling.

That could not be, it could simply not be!

He felt tears slipping down his cheeks.

What had happened, where were his friends? Were they still alive? Were they... were they...?

He screamed.

His head seemed to explode, and he buried his hands in his hair, ripping out entire strands.

He screamed.

He cried.

His legs gave in and he fell to the ground.

His friends! His friends!

Brook! Franky! Robin! Chopper! Sanji! Usopp! Nami! Luffy!

Luffy!

It felt like he was burning from the inside.

And then he collapsed.


	9. Chapter 5 - Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> without any more words, here it comes, have fun ;-)

Chapter 5 - Awakening

-Zoro-

Slowly he woke up.

His whole body was almost screaming in pain, as if he were burning from the inside. Everything around him seemed blurry and dull.

What had happened? Where was he?

Clumsily he crouched up on all fours and looked around slowly.

He felt deaf and empty, his head was heavy, his body trembled uncontrollably.

He cowered on a soft carpet between flashy furniture. It was dark, only a faint, cold shimmer bathed the room in an icy blue light.

Slowly he was able to orientate himself again, realized where he was and why.

He tried to stand up, but his body did not want to obey his command. His hands trembled and he could barely move. Then he stared at his hands, stared at those hands, which seemed like they were meant for fighting.

"What...?" His voice was hoarse and broke, scratching slightly.

He grabbed his neck and looked down at his body.

Torn clothes hung on him as if they had burst from the inside. Burst seams and button strips; zippers that had failed their service. Scraps of cloth tried to cover his body but failed miserably.

He let his hand slid slowly down to his collarbone and stayed there for a second, then brushed across his chest down to his hip, feeling the familiar sensitive yet rough line that stood out irregularly from the rest of the smooth skin.

Harshly he exhaled and grabbed his still pounding head. The short, disobedient hair under his fingers could hardly be tamed.

He couldn’t hinder a quiet laughter.

"I've done it," he whispered to the quiet room, closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying the pain before persuading himself to get up.

His body was unusually heavy, much heavier than expected and somehow everything was moving awkwardly, his hands and feet were clumsy, and his muscles lacked the necessary fine-tuning.

Again, he laughed softly, he had not imagined it to feel like this.

His body was still burning, and he felt tired, exhausted. He would like to lie back down straight right away and just keep sleeping.

He noted the mirror, no, more precisely he noted his reflection. Some of the scraps had slipped to the ground and now he was standing there almost naked. The strange cold, bluish light, that gave the room an icy glow, made him look ghostly, almost as if he were frozen, although he felt as hot as if his body was burning.

Even his eyes glowed unusually bluish.

He knew where he was and why he was there, but why had he been lying on the floor in the middle of the night? What had happened? What had happened to him?

Slowly he looked around, tried to find clues that explained to him what had happened, and eventually he found them.

Behind the low table in front of which he had been lying, he found the source of the blue light. There was a screen. It flickered in a faint blue, but deep cracks had shattered the glass and no image was displayed.

For a moment he looked only at the blue flickering, confused and surprised, but then the memories crept out of the depths of his mind and horror filled him.

He struggled to breathe, and he felt his legs threaten to give in. He stumbled a few steps backwards and had to cling to an armchair to avoid collapsing. His heart raced and panic filled him as he fought for air.

He looked around frantically, trying to identify something that told him that he had imagined it all, but he knew that wasn't the case. No, it really had happened, it really had happened, and he had been forced to watch it all helpless, unable to do anything.

If he had gone along with them. If he hadn't been so selfish. If he had only...

An indefinable sound crept out of his throat.

A voice in his head, that didn't sound like him, tried to reason him that he should calm down, that he needed a cool head and was not allowed to overreact.

But he stubbornly ignored that voice and looked around. On the contrary, he had to act, act immediately. Then he noted the open wall door, leading into the other room, showing his luggage.

With awkward steps he wanted rushed over, but his heavy feet hardly wanted to leave the ground and over and over he lost his balance.

His body screamed that he was too exhausted, that he needed rest. But how should he find peace now? How should he be able to rest now?

He stumbled through the door and found himself in the other room.

A familiar, cool, wooden scent filled his nose, but it filled him not with the usual serenity, but only with anger, with anger and despair.

Shaking fingers opened a cupboard case and with uncoordinated movements he pulled out some clothes.

Both shirt and trousers were too big for him, but he didn't care. He wasn't even looking for shoes, knowing none would fit, but found a strange belt with straps, which he took, as it fitted his need perfectly.

He then trampled over to a large suitcase.

Once again, he was annoyed by his fingers, which took eternities to open the locks, but eventually he was able to lift the lid up.

Underneath he found his swords, all tenderly and carefully stowed away.

Cautiously he took each of them and attached them to his belt.

When he wanted to reach for the fourth, a quiet wave of anger met him, and he remembered that this sword could not be led among others.

"One day I will own you too," he muttered, straightening up.

Still it was difficult for him to breathe when he thought about what had happened, but so slowly he could at least think again. His body was still exhausted, but the pain slowly subsided.

He was about to get going when he noticed something in the suitcase. He hesitated for a moment, but then he reached for the little white transponder snail and the tiny scrap of paper, putting both in his pockets.

He briefly looked around. He couldn't leave a message, nothing that could blow his cover or put Mihawk in danger, so he left the room.

Zoro had no idea where to go or what exactly he was planning, but he hadn't been able to stay in that room for a second. He had to act. He had to find him, Bartholomew's Kuma. Had to find him and find out exactly what he had done. Only then he would be able to find out if his friends were still alive.

He didn't meet anyone, but that didn't surprise him. After all, this area was reserved for the lawless with immunity.

But wouldn't Kuma, as one of the Shichibukai, have to be here somewhere?

"Roronoa Zoro?"

As if he had conjured him up!

Zoro swirled around, he would always recognize this voice.

"Bartholomew's Kuma," he growled breathless as the improbable came true.

The strangely built giant had just walked through a high archway and looked down at him, in one hand his damn Bible.

"How can it be that you are still alive?" The Shichibukai asked.

Only the moonlight was their witness, but Zoro drew his sword.

"I'm asking the questions here!" His voice was still rough and scratchy, but he took it as a blessing in disguise that he’d been able to find the Shichicukai within a few minutes. He had not expected to find Kuma that quickly and he wasn’t sure if it was luck or just bad luck. "What did you do to my crew?"

For a moment, the Shichibukai just looked at him.

"Start talking!" Zoro demanded, drawing a second sword.

"So, you actually survived? Once again. It seems that death is no friend of yours."

"Not here to talk about death! What did you do to my friends?!"

He knew a fight was pointless. His body was so exhausted that he could barely walk and although Kuma wasn’t the strongest of all Shichibukai, Zoro could still remember their last confrontation well enough. Back then on Thriller Bark.

"What are you doing in the Holy Land? Don't you realize that this is your death sentence the moment you are discovered?"

The words of the other, who obviously did not want to fight, confused him. Why would he worry if this here was Zoro’s death?

But he did not let himself be fooled by this.

"You said it already: death is not my friend. So, for the last time, what did you do to my friends?!"

"I saved them."

"What?!"

"Tell me, Roronoa Zoro, if you were to go on a trip, where would you like to go?"

"What?!"

The other one suddenly stood right in front of him and Zoro knew he couldn't do anything.

"Don't worry, Roronoa Zoro, I'm not going to betray you." And then the other slammed his huge hand down on him.

He couldn't dodge. It was too late.

-Mihawk-

He stretched while yawning loudly.

Rarely he had attended a session as long-lasting, long-lasting and slow-moving, as this one. Why did he have to be involved with something like this?

Oh yes, precisely because he was a Shichibukai and in a way had no choice.

Tired, he rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. The rising sun greeted him.

He had spent almost twenty hours in this room with way too many Marines for his taste. At least, he knew now exactly what was going on and no longer had to rely on his own speculations, even though they had been very accurate.

Puma D. Ace, an execution, Whitebeard.

He sighed. Why did he always have to be right?

It would all get pretty annoying. And exhausting. And boring.

He shrugged his shoulders. Not that he really cared. He would fight, maybe fight one or another half-interesting fight and then turn his back to this stage. He did not care about Whitebeard and his disagreements with World Government. All he was interested in was to leave the walls of Mary Joa behind as quickly as possible and to continue training Roronoa.

A quiet grin darkened his features as he walked down the empty corridors. He would briefly check if his little frog was already awake before he would get some rest himself.

But then he stopped.

It was frightening how important this child had become to him and how proud it made him that he was the only one to whom Roronoa had entrusted his secret. Not even his own crew had been initiated by him.

Still, at some point, Roronoa would return to his crew, that was undeniable and at some point, he would leave Mihawk behind. At some point, he would have to let go of his little frog.

But he still had at least a month, a month, in which he had Roronoa all by himself.

He continued walking with a sigh. He would not have thought that he would ever become so dependent on anyone else again. Pretty pathetic for someone like him. Pretty sad, if he was honest, almost pathetic.

_What was this farce for? Why did you want me to interrupt you? It makes you look weak._

He laughed softly; this spectacle was only partly a farce. Too often he let himself be interrupted by the other, far too often he reflected on his own opinion according to the words of the younger. Although the youngster liked to give the impression of being a simple fool, Mihawk knew perfectly well that he was not, that Roronoa was much more, Mihawk’s weakness for example.

If the world knew that; knew that the great Hawk Eyes, the best swordsman in the world and one of the dreaded Shichibukai was influenced by some little rookie, a rookie believed dead… he shook his head.

What had this boy done to him?

But he was not allowed to be influenced or even worse controlled by this.

Yes, the longer he thought about it, the more reasonable it sounded to keep the younger one at distance. That would be good for both of them, and besides, his little frog always complained that he had become too soft.

His little frog _. His_ little frog.

Sighing, he ruffled through his hair, destroying his neatly arranged hairstyle.

Roronoa was right.

They had long since ceased to be simply teacher and student, for a long time they had already been more than only rivals and, as Roronoa expected, this could become problematic for them both.

When did they have become friends?

Perhaps Mihawk really should show a little more detachment, bring a little more distance between them and return to this old teacher-student relationship.

Exactly, that was reasonable, that was wise and appropriate.

Appropriate for someone like him.

So, he would just check swiftly on Roronoa and then... No, if he wanted to deal with this properly, he should not check on the other one, not even swiftly. It was enough if he informed the other about his decision and planned with him the upcoming days after he had taken a nap.

Exactly, a serious teacher would act in the same way.

He nodded to himself, confirmed himself. He would now get his deserved sleep and do exactly what the rational-thinking part of his mind advised him to do.

He yawned again and then opened the door to his rooms.

Intruder!

Something was wrong, someone had been here. Carefully he stepped in.

But Yuro behind his back, was only quietly humming, no sign of danger.

There was no one there, but that only worried him more.

In the light of the morning sun, he closed the door behind him and regarded the room.

The first thing that caught his eye was his wardrobe trunk, which had been neatly closed but now was standing wide open, a few garments had been ripped out and lay carelessly on the floor. However, Kanan had packed his clothes and so he could hardly tell if anything was missing.

Next, he noticed that the locks of Roronoa's suitcase were open. The suitcase in which he had kept his student's swords and books.

Otherwise, the room was undisturbed, except for a single overturned chair, halfway between the open wall door to the adjoining room and the luggage.

With calm but still vigilant movements, he rushed over to the suitcase and lifted up the lid. His heart beat faster.

An angry Josei greeted him, but the other swords were gone, as well as the little white transponder snail.

He had to stay calm.

Slowly, he lowered the lid and looked around, trying to grasp what had happened.

Then he walked through the room, through the open wall door and into the other apartment.

Here, the soft sunlight was disturbed by a slight flickering. He followed the strange light until he found the cause. The screen to receive the internal Marine’s broadcast had fallen to the ground, the glass shattered, but it still flickered weakly.

Several chairs and other furniture in this room had been knocked over and he could find scraps of a blue dress, as well as few strands of long green hair. Mihawk bent down and picked up a single hair. He found no blood, but his chest felt cruelly tight. Once again, he skimmed the room.

A long-forgotten feeling grew within him. He had a hard time breathing. Slowly he ruffled through his hair, covering his face.

He had to keep calm, he had to stay completely calm.

This was not the first time Roronoa had gone missing. But the last time, the brat had been simply running around on Sasaki and not in the stronghold of the World Government.

His heart was racing, but he tried to keep a cool head, unwanted emotions would not help him now.

He quickly ripped the cross chain from his neck and pulled out the small weapon. With trembling fingers, he opened the secret clasp on the base of the blade and shook out a small, white, folded piece of paper.

He exhaled deeply. The paper still looked exactly the same as two days ago, when he had hidden it in his weapon. It was not unnaturally crumpled, nor was it burning silently. Whatever had happened to Roronoa, at least he was fine.

Relief spread through him, but it did not last long. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny white transponder snail.

As he pressed the button, the little snail yawned before opening its eyes. Its quiet beeping told him that a connection had been made.

For a long time, he stood in the middle of the room and looked at the little snail that kept beeping. Minutes seemed to pass, but nothing happened.

Roronoa apparently was alive, but for whatever reason he was not able to pick up.

Slowly the fear crawled back into his limbs, but Mihawk tried to suppress it, trying to remain master of the situation.

He hung up and the little snail closed its eyes to continue to sleep.

For a moment, he looked at the room again, grasping and reconstructing what had happened, thought about what would be the best thing for him to do.

Quickly he went back to his room, pulled open a drawer of his trunk and took out a black transponder snail with dark brown lines.

The well-known but rarely used number was entered within a split second.

After a few breaths, somebody picked up.

"Bosatsu here, good morning, you have reached the..."

"Kanan," he interrupted the usual greeting; even his voice betrayed him.

"Your Lordship?" Her surprise was audible.

"Kanan, I need your help. Do not ask any questions and act as discreetly as possible." Now his voice finally sounded as it should.

The housekeeper quietly agreed and then he talked.

After a few minutes, he ended the conversation and put the snail away.

Then he went over to the transponder snail, which was provided by the World Government. It took only a few seconds when he picked up the receiver.

"Good morning, Lord Dracule. How can I be at your assistance?"

For a moment he remained silent, reconsidered his decision, but not faltering at all. He had to act, he had to keep up this farce until the last act. He had to stay calm.

"I would like to inform you that my companion, Lady Loreen, is not doing well."

"Oh, my apologies. Shall I send a doctor?"

"No, please understand, this must be treated discreetly. The doctor of the Dracule estate has already been notified. I ask you to grant him safe access to the underground port. He should arrive within a few hours with a merchant ship."

The official hesitated: "Well, basically we can only allow ships of the World Government or the Marine to dock. Is it not possible to have Lady Loreen examined by one of our doctors?"

"That would probably be unfavorable. My companion is extremely reserved in terms of privacy and health, so I would prefer to avoid strangers, I hope you can understand."

"Well... Well, I will do my best to organize your doctor’s arrival. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Thank you, I appreciate your help. Please ensure that the content of this conversation and the reason for this exception stay between the both of us."

Again, the soldier hesitated.

"Your Lordship?" He asked. "Is Lady Loreen seriously ill?"

One... Two... He deliberately waited long enough before reacting.

"Please handle this information privately. There are things that should not be made public.”

He hung up.

Such schemes were his thing. He had grown up in the flimsy system of politics and was able to handle it very well. It was easy to disguise Lady Loreen's disappearance.

Once again, he tried the small, white transponder snail. Again, it yawned and again its call for its twin went unanswered.

With a sigh, he walked over to his youngster's room and cleared most of the traces. For a moment, he looked at the still faintly flickering screen before turning it off.

He quickly exchanged the broken screen with the unharmed one from his own room, also exchanged the small numbered sticky notes that stuck on the back, and even collected the fine shards, only to distribute them back in his room.

Then he elegantly knocked over the screen with one well-placed kick.

So far so good.

A Shichibukai who destroyed something in his room, nothing special, not even worth talking about, but it probably would not fit the fine Lady Loreen.

He stepped back to his belongings and pulled out another transponder snail. A large, white one, one that could not be intercepted. He quickly typed in the familiar numbers.

"Cho," it came calmly from the other side.

Mihawk hesitated for a moment, feeling his lips trembling.

"Hello?" His childhood friend asked.

"Jirou," he muttered.

"Mihawk? Is it you, Hawky?"

"Of course, it is me," he replied annoyed, regaining his rationality. "Who else should it be?"

The Rear Admiral laughed softly. "Bad mood as ever," he snickered. "So? What’s up, almighty Shichibukai?"

"Are you mocking me?"

For a moment thing started to feel normal again.

"Jiroushin, were there any special incidents broadcasted by the Marine-intern channel yesterday?"

His interlocutor yawned. "Yes, of course. Haven’t you heart anything about it? It's even written all over the newspapers."

Mihawk sighed. “I haven't received a newspaper yet and I've been in a meeting since yesterday until this morning. So, what happened?"

"You really seem to have a sixth sense for everything connected to the straw hats, right?"

"Excuse me?" And there was this uneasy feeling again. What had happened to the straw hats?

"Yes, a few rookies - and, of course, your precious straw hats - have attacked a few World Aristocrats. Then some of our troops and Admiral Kizaru were mobilized."

This, of course, explained why there had been so much movement during the meeting. Unusual many officers had left and later returned, before leaving again. However, he had not been surprised about Admiral Kizaru's absence, after all, some high-ranking members had been missing, as they had already been called to the Marine Ford to make some arrangements there.

"That means the straw hats have fought against Kizaru? Was it a live broadcast?"

The other agreed: "Yes, there was a broadcast, but actually they fought against the Pacifista and Sentoumaru first. Kizaru apparently joined later, together with the Shichibukai Bartholomew Kuma."

Mihawk stared at the snail. "Why so much effort for a few rookies? Sentoumaru should also be able to deal with them on his own. Especially when he takes these tin cans along, which you should actually not talk about with an outsider."

“Wait what? Yes, you’re right, but how do you even know about the Pacifistas?"

"Oh please, Jirou, you know me. But let us get back to the real issue."

The Rear Admiral sighed: "Yes, there is no more to add. It apparently went all haywire. I don't have a lot of information; I wasn't there and it's not my case."

"So, what actually happened, Jiroushin. What about the straw hats?" An uneasy feeling grumbled in his stomach area.

"Well, you can imagine what happened. They were defeated."

"How?"

Why were his hands shaking? Jirou was right, of course, something like this had to be expected with those opponents.

"Mhm. Was clear that they had no chance against two such high-ranking officials and then Kuma also appeared and... Well, you know his powers – probably even better than I do, when I think about it – he made one straw hat after another disappear. They're all gone. Some of them were probably seriously injured, I don't think they all survived."

Slowly he sank to one of the many armchairs.

"And... and that was broadcasted live?"

"Yeah, was pretty good for the ego of the Marines, that everyone saw the straw hats being wiped out. After all, they have caused us so much trouble many times, only the day before yesterday on Sarue again. By the way, were you somehow involved with what happened there?"

And Roronoa had watched it all. Roronoa had watched his friends, one after the other, be defeated. Mihawk did not know if the other knew about Kuma's abilities, after all, the two already had the pleasure of meeting each other. Either way, he could easily imagine what had happened.

Slowly he buried his face in his free hand, still holding the small piece of paper.

He was not there for a few hours and then something like that happened.

“Hawky?”

“Hmm?”

His friend's voice sounded anxious.

"Listen, I know that the straw hats meant something to you. You have followed their deeds at every turn. But that's the way it is, now. They are pirates and have done a damn lot of mischief, it severs them right.”

He had to do something, but where could Roronoa be? Where could this useless brat have disappeared to?

Mihawk had to leave immediately and look for him. If he were to follow the Vivre Card, he would sooner or later find the other, no matter where he was. He was shaking, he had to hurry, he could not waste any more time.

"I'm sorry, Hawky. I didn't realize they were so important to you."

"Oh, I don't care about these straw hats!" He growled and could barely breathe.

"What's going on?"

Like that one long gone day, an incredible feeling of fear rose within him, taking his breath away. He never thought he would have to feel so helpless again.

“Hawky?”

"Jirou, I..."

"It's about Loreen, isn't it?"

Shocked, he stared at the snail. Was it that obvious?

"Yes," he replied.

"Is everything okay?" His childhood friend asked.

For a moment he remained silent, thinking seriously about this question.

"No," he whispered, "no, nothing is okay."

He was scared and there was no worse feeling than fearing for a person that was important to him.

Pathetic! Fear for a child, who would one day defeat him.

"Oh," his counterpart muttered. "Did something happen? Isn't she doing well?"

He hesitated, but then he gave in.

"No, not at all."

How should Roronoa be well? Two days ago, he had faced his crew, had decided to not return, the reasons for this were now irrelevant. For yesterday he had not been with them, had watched helplessly while his friends had been defeated.

“Jirou?”

"Hmm?"

"I think I am about to do something pretty stupid, something almost insane."

What had this boy done to him? He barely recognized himself.

"Okay," muttered the other, "then let me just ask you a question. Would Loreen approve if you did it because of her?"

He stared at his palm, the little paper still lying in it, crawling away from him very quietly. Roronoa would laugh at him. Roronoa would say that even without Mihawk, he would be fine. And Roronoa would say that it would be a shame that he, Hawk Eyes, would be so influenced by a child.

A hesitant smile slid on his lips.

"Thank you, Jirou," he whispered.

"No problem. Can I help you in any way?"

He sighed and leaned back.

"You could row me for my stupidity. That is not how a Dracule should behave. Losing my nerves about such small things is absolutely foolish. You could row me for even considering such stupidity, that I might even think about it for a moment. Such a disgrace, how disappointing.”

The Rear Admiral laughed softly.

"Stop worrying, Hawky. Loreen is much tougher than she looks. I think she'll be better soon.”

"I should not worry about some student; you should tell me that! Could you for once be the grownup in our relationship and tell me that such a behavior is simply not appropriate for a man of my qualities."

Again, the other laughed quietly.

Unexpectedly it knocked on the room door and a young man came in with a breakfast tray and the morning newspaper, although it was already noon.

Sighing, Mihawk got up, ended the phone call without saying goodbye, and brushed his hair back.

His little private break was over, Mihawk had left the stage, now Hawk Eyes came on again. Hawk Eyes, rationality and calmness in person.

  
  



	10. Chapter 6 - Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there,
> 
> so this is just a short, little chapter, not a lot of things happening, but they will, I promise ;-)
> 
> Have a great weekend everybody, and thank you all for your lovely kudos and comments^^

Chapter 6 - Uncertainty

-Zoro-

Headache.

The last few days he had woken up far too often with a headache.

He didn't even want to think about the rest of his body.

It felt as if someone with a pair of dull, hot tweezers had first pulled off his skin and then teared apart every single fiber of his muscles, tendons, and whatever else was in the body.

Feeling dull he groaned and tried to move but failed miserably. Everything hurt and his body was simply unable to perceive anything else.

He opened his heavy eyes.

What had actually happened and where the hell was he?

Above him he saw a blurred ceiling of simple, cold stone.

But then he remembered what had happened. He had turned back, he had lost his crew and afterwards turned back.

Quietly, he sighed. At last he was himself again. But the feeling of happiness that he was supposed to feel wasn’t there. How could he rejoice about something like this when he didn't even know where his friends were and if they were alright?

He did not believe in accidents or fate, but in his luck he had come across Bartholomew Kuma, only minutes after he had been back in his original body again. Just like back then on Thriller Bark, Zoro had not stood any chance, had hardly been able to defend himself.

_I saved them._

What the hell had the Shichibukai meant by that?

After all, he had smashed them! Had made them... made them disappear. He had destroyed them!

_Tell me, Roronoa Zoro, if you were to go on a trip, where would you like to go?_

Or... Hold on.

Had Kuma done the same with them? Had he just touched them, like him, and then the same thing had happened to them; whatever had happened to him?

Had Kuma, just like with Zoro, brought his friends out of a dangerous situation?

But why? Why should a Shichibukai help them? The one Shichibukai of all people, who had wanted to kill his captain not so long ago?

_Don't worry, Roronoa_ _Zoro, I'm not going to betray you._

This made no sense at all!

Why did this Shichibukai first send his friends and then him away? Why did he seem to want to help them and what did he mean by that? Not betraying him? That he had been on Mary Joa or what?

Or that he was still alive. Slowly it dawned to Zoro.

But if all of this was really true, then it meant that his friends were still alive, had to be alive.

Zoro had no idea where he was, but maybe his friends were there as well.

He quickly straightened up, at least he tried, but his body was still burning in pain and, except for a miserable groan, nothing happened.

But what struck him was his voice.

It wasn't his voice. No, that was not true. It wasn't his voice, yet still it was his voice, or rather Loreen's voice.

To hell with that! Had it been nothing but a dream? In the end, hadn’t he changed?

But no, Kuma had recognized him after all.

He sighed, the headache made it impossible for him to think straight.

"You're awake?"

There was somebody there!

But Zoro could still hardly move and even from the corners of his eyes he could not see anything. Moreover, his damn vision was slow to clear up.

He wanted to answer, but only a croak rang out of his mouth.

"My goodness, you look like you’ve taken some stick, haven't you?"

Somehow this voice seemed familiar to him, he thought he had heard it somewhere, but maybe only because his roaring head played a prank on him.

Once again, he tried to get up and this time he even made it halfway.

"Carefully," the voice advised with a slightly sarcastic undertone.

Zoro looked to the side, there, just a few meters away from him, stood painted, young woman with pink hair.

"You?!" He wanted to scream, but only a dry growl came out.

She was that girl from Thriller Bark! This ghost chick, which could spread negative mood with her hollows.

She didn't seem to understand him, because she smiled slightly.

"You also got caught by Bartholomew Kuma, didn't you?"

She bent down and picked up a pillow, holding a small bowl with a cloth in the other hand.

"I found you outside. You’ve fallen out of the sky just like I’ve done. Looked at least as bad as I did." She kept talking, pushing the pillow behind his back so he could sit up. "I’m really glad that I'm not alone anymore. I've been here for almost two months and there's absolutely no one to talk to on this whole insel. There aren't even servants here."

"You are..." Again, his voice broke.

"My name is Perona." She sat on a chair next to his bed and was still smiling. "And you're one of the straw hats, aren't you?"

-Mihawk-

Standing in Lady Loreen's room, he watched his housekeeper, her son, and one of her granddaughters scurry around another one of Kanan's granddaughters. 

"Koushu, this is not an art competition, stick the wig on and finish it," murmured the younger one, a girl named Taruchi, in fond memory of Mihawk's late mother, but she was so very different from his mother, not that he was thinking about that at the moment.

Taruchi was not even twelve years old but already about the size of Roronoa in his female form. Otherwise, their figures seemed similar, at least at first glance.

"Don't rush me, Tai, the wig has to fit tightly so it doesn’t fall off," hissed the elder of the sisters, not yet twenty and already an image of her mother.

The father of the two, Kanan's only son and indeed the real doctor of the Dracule family, meanwhile, worked at the large suitcase in which he had brought his youngest daughter in. It looked like a normal, if oversized, doctor's bag.

"Stop fighting, you two," he muttered in his usual calm, deep voice; with each word his little too long moustache trembled, "and calm down a little bit."

None of them paid attention to Mihawk, none of them asked any questions, none of them seemed nervous, they all seemed totally unimpressed by this unusual assignment.

Kanan walked over to him.

She had tried several times to start a conversation with him, but he had stopped any attempt. He did not want to talk about him worrying, did not want to talk about how unsettled he was, he did not want to talk about how an uneducated child had become so important to him.

"Your Lordship?" She looked up at him.

He turned his gaze away from the two sisters when she touched his arm, but before he could respond, they were already interrupted by a dull knock. It came from the front door of Mihawk’s rooms.

Suddenly, everybody exchanged a quick glance. The two sisters rushed to Lady Loreen's bedroom, followed by their father, who closed the door.

Mihawk quickly walked into his room, feeling the door in the wall close in his back, locking it on his side as well.

He quickly straightened the collar of his coat before opening the door.

"Eizen?"

He was already cursing himself. His concern for Roronoa had made him inattentive. Of course, it had only been a matter of time before the politician would show up.

"To what do I owe the honor?" He asked coldly, openly showing his dislike.

The old man with his opaque sunglasses folded his hands. Behind him were two bodyguards in black suits, a somewhat unorthodox company for the politician, at least in Mary Joa, where no danger supposedly existed.

"Good morning, Lord Dracule," he said, respecting the etiquette, "I wanted to have a conversation with Lady Loreen, but I saw the please-not-disturb sign hanging on her door, so I was hoping to meet her in your chambers."

This wicked man wasted no time.

"As you will surely remember, I would like to discuss the further cooperation with the young lady."

" _Further cooperation?_ ", Mihawk repeated a trace too sarcastic. "I would like to remind you that there has been no cooperation between you and my companion so far. As far as I am informed, my guest has politely rejected your offer, even if you may dislike it."

The other was just smiling his dangerous smile. "Oh, maybe I have just _forgotten_ it. Anyway, I would like to talk to Lady Loreen now, so if you would be so kind to step aside."

The audacity of the other surprised him. The contract with Lady Loreen seemed to be truly important to him. Why else should he take such drastic measures and disrespect the etiquette?

Mihawk folded his arms.

“I have to apologize, but this will not possible.”

"Excuse me?" The old man seemed almost confused that his desire had not been bowed to.

"Lady Loreen is about to leave Mary Joa and is currently not receiving any guests."

Eizen laughed softly: "You must be joking, Lord Dracule, a bad joke if I may add. Please, it is unthinkable that you will not guard Lady Loreen for even a second and now the young lady is supposed to leave Mary Joa without you. With all due respect, but are you trying to get rid of me?"

The other was far too direct, this meeting seemed quite necessary for him.

"I apologize, but I have to disappoint you. It is actually the case that I will not leave with my companion. My duties as Shichibukai do not allow me to accompany my guest."

"Oh, I understand." A quiet threat had crept into Eizen's voice. "You have heard about my unplanned visit to Mary Joa and want to prevent a conversation between the honorable lady and me. Your jealousy is almost morbid."

Mihawk would not fall for this bait, the other had to think about a better trap if he wanted to lure Mihawk into answering unasked questions.

"Eizen, I ask you to refrain from such insinuations. As you have just said yourself, your visit is unplanned, so how would I have been able to make any preparations?"

But he did not deny that he would have done some under different conditions.

"But your companion is still there, isn't she? I do not mind the young lady continuing packing her possessions while we are talking. Please, let me in."

Now Mihawk pressed a hand against the door frame, an unmistakable sign. One of the two men behind the politician took a step forward.

"You obviously fail to understand me, Eizen. Lady Loreen is currently unable to receive any visitor, even if it is someone like you."

Now the politician frowned.

"And why is that?"

"Private reasons," he replied coldly.

"Is it the same reason why Lady Loreen was indisposed for the last few days at your home?"

"Even if, I am not in the position to tell you."

At that moment, Mihawk could hear a fine, almost inaudible beep; the snail in his pocket had awakened.

Roronoa!

Luckily, at that very moment, the wall door opened behind him – making him wonder how that was possible, because he recalled locking it - and Kanan came in, drawing attention to herself.

"Your Lordship," she called him calmly, "I am sorry to bother you, but if you would please come. Doctor Gonou wants to talk to you."

Oh, just in time.

"Doctor Gonou?" The politician asked.

"My family's doctor," Mihawk answered hostile, "and now, if you please would excuse me. I wish you a pleasant stay on Mary Joa."

He closed the door in front of Eizen’s face, who had already opened his mouth for a reply.

"Very good, Kanan," he murmured, digging in his pocket. "What does Gonou want?"

The older woman shrugged her shoulders.

"I just wanted to let you know that we are ready and that we can leave."

He looked at the big clock at the other end of the room.

"Not yet. An average appointment of a family doctor takes a little longer, especially if concerning an important personality... please wait a few more minutes with your departure."

The housekeeper nodded and closed the wall door again.

Mihawk meanwhile pressed the button of the little transponder snail and waited. It beeped quietly in front of him.

But the other did not pick up.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled dissatisfied. "Did you just call me only to throw the snail away or what?"

With a sigh he gave up again. Hopefully it had been really Roronoa. 

-Zoro-

"What?" He asked, stunned.

She just nodded: "Yeah, of course, I mean you're totally cute right now, but when you got here you weren't at all. You transformied or something and you're a pretty little girl now, but actually you're that nasty looking swordsdude, whose shadow we stole."

His heart stopped for a second. How could he get out of this mess?

Yet she had confirmed that he had regained his own body and then turned back.

That would also explain the pain.

The very first time he had woken up in this form, everything had felt numb and heavy.

When he had regained consciousness in his true body, he had been hardly able to move due to the pain, and now he felt very similar, was even more exhausted, even more tired.

"You said you were alone." His voice was still coarse, scratching his already dry throat. "That means none of the straw hats are here?"

If she had seen his transformation with her own eyes, a game of hide-and-seek would do nothing but steal time.

She shook her head. "No, just you. I read in the newspaper that you guys got beaten up. But I thought you were already dead, haven't you fallen with the G-6?"

The girl with the pink braids handed him a cup of clear liquid.

"How old is the newspaper?" He asked. How long had he been unconscious? Where had the Shichibukai sent him and how long had it taken him to get wherever he was?

The cold water soothed his irritated throat.

"Well, from today. But say, I didn't even know you were a shapeshifter. How do you do that?"

"I'm not," he replied coolly. So not even a day had passed. But since this room had no windows, he could not tell how early or late it was.

"Geez, you are rude. I'm finally not alone anymore and all I get is someone like you. Despite your sweet figure, you're a meany, do you know that?"

Now he looked at her again.

"You know I'm going to kill you if you blab about what happens here, right?"

Her already round, big eyes grew even bigger.

"What? That you are a shapeshifter?"

"I'm not a shapeshifter." It was exhausting. Her voice annoying, made him almost miss the quiet, thoughtful voice of the Shichibukai.

He paused, that was the first time he thought of the other. Hopefully this idiot hadn't done something stupid. Back when Zoro had done a few errands for Kanan and she had given him the wrong directions, the elder had almost gone nuts.

He had to tell this overprotective teacher what had happened and then he had to get to the Sabaody Archipelago as fast as possible. If he was alive and this girl before him as well, after she had also faced the Kuma, he could assume that the Shichibukai actually did spare his friends.

So maybe they were all alive and then they would all find their way back to the Sabaody Archipelago.

Then he noticed that this girl was still staring at him.

"What?" He grumbled.

"You're really rude," she said slowly, "I've helped you, you know? If I had left you outside, you'd probably be dead by now!"

"I don't think so." He was not interested in her sensitivity.

"By the way, the thing over there has been crying all morning." She nodded to the night table by his side. Against it leaned his three swords and on it lay a small white transponder snail, peacefully asleep. "I guess your sweetheart is worried about you."

"My what?"

Again, he stared at her.

"Well your sweetheart, this horrible mean Shichibukai Hawk Eyes. I read about all your adventures in the newspaper, I didn't have much else to do. You're Lady Loreen, right?"

Oh no, it seemed to be getting even worse than he expected.

“But to be honest, although I have to say it's kind of romantic I'm also a bit confused. Are you now a World Aristocrat who pretends to be a man to be able to travel around as a pirate and meet the love of her life? Or are you really a man and have just faked your death to be with your love? I don't know what I find more romantic. I mean, you look really fearsome as Roronoa Zoro and I don't even want to start about this Hawk Eyes, but both of you together would be just..."

"Could you stop it! What the hell?! There is nothing going on between Hawk Eyes and me. Are you mad or what to come up with such nonsense?!"

For a moment she only looked at him, then she pulled out several scraps of paper out of nowhere.

"Evidence one!" She slammed a newspaper article on the blanket covering his legs.

"Evidence two!" Another one.

"And of course, let’s not forget evidence three!"

Each of these newspaper articles showed Lady Loreen and Dracule Mihawk at some activity, the last one was probably the most famous picture of him. It was from the great Marine ball. On the white marble floor, a young veiled woman knelt, her white dress spread out like a lake around her. This woman was himself, his alter ego Lady Loreen. A hand raised, with his back to the camera.

In front of the woman, three small steps up stood no one other than Dracule Mihawk, dressed all in black, except for the red mask. The Shichibukai had opened his mouth slightly by surprise and extended a hand after the woman on the ground.

Zoro knew this picture, it hung in the kitchen of the Dracule mansion, Kanan loved it.

"This is you, right?"

"Yes, but that’s not..."

"Here it says in cold print, that you guys kissed on the ball and then you bailed."

"It didn’t happen like...”

"And what about..."

"Shut up, will ya?!” Slowly he grew mad, his voice could hardly bear the increased volume and broke. "I don't have to explain myself to you. We are no... not in any way! Hawk Eyes is just the guy I want to defeat and that’s it!"

She didn't seem impressed at all. 

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care if you believe me or not!"

"But the newspaper..."

"I don't care what it says."

She got up grumpy. “You're really nasty. I kind of doubt you're nobility.”

"I never said I was!" Why was he here?!

"That means that's also a lie?! So, you’re really this grumpy swordsdude?"

Slightly desperate, he pointed to his three swords.

"Do they answer your question?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and pulled a face.

"So only two grumpy swordsmen without love? But this is neither sweet nor romantic!" She went to the door. "No, it's not sweet. Not sweet, not cute. Not cute at all.”

"Hey," he yelled after her. She turned around.

"Just to make things clear, Perona, that's your name, right? If you spill even one word about this, I’ll hunt you down and let you watch me cutting some heads off from all your cuddly toys before I kill you."

Shocked, she jumped a step back.

"No! You wouldn’t dare to!"

"Do you really want to find out?"

She shook her head. “You're really not as cute as you look. Not cute at all." With those words she left.

He groaned annoyed and fell back. The pain had subsided by now and only a dull reverberating muscle soreness remained, but he was still exhausted.

What had he done to deserve this?

But then he realized the situation he was in. He quickly reached for the small, white transponder snail. He needed a cool head and a good plan now.

When he pressed the small button, the awakening snail stretched out and squealed slightly before it began to send the signal.

Suddenly the door opened again.

"Here, I have something to eat for you."

Hastily he hung up and buried the little snail under the blanket, could feel this little animal cuddling against his leg.

Why did he hide it from the girl?


	11. Chapter 7 - Countenance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> sorry for being somewhat late (as I was about to post some kind soul informed me that somebody had copied on of my works and uploaded it on another site without my permission, so I had to deal with that first, sorry, but it was slightly upsetting me so I wanted to take care of it as fast as possible).
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this soft little chapter, we're still in the calm before the storm, so be patient, soon there will be more action, I promise ;-)
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos and if you ever have a question or something doesn't make sense, please don't be shy and just tell me ;-) It's a long story, it's hard to remember all that happened so I will gladly answer all of it^^'

Chapter 7 - Countenance

-Zoro-

"What's your problem?" He growled as the ghost girl stormed back in. He had just tried to reach Hawk Eyes with his transponder snail.

"Stop being so moody. You get ugly wrinkles from that." She didn't seem to take him seriously. "I just wanted to bring you something to eat. You must be hungry."

The smell of cookies filled the room and his stomach grumbled in agreement.

"What's wrong with you?" He complained to cover the treason of his stomach. "I don't like you and don't need your help, so why are you even here?"

She sat down again on the chair she had left not even two minutes ago.

“I don’t really like you either. You're rude and have no manners, and you're anything but delightful, despite your sweet face. But..." The girl hesitated. "But I've been alone for weeks now and although you don’t really seem like the brightest candle, at least you're someone to talk to."

She looked away, her large, round eyes shimmering slightly.

"Since this Shichibukai sent me away from Thriller Bark, I haven't been able to talk to anyone. I don't know what happened to Master Moria or how my toys are doing. This castle is beautiful and everything is pleasantly creepy, but there was no one there who could talk to me. Leaving the castle is not an option with these ugly monkeys who want nothing more than to kill you." Her voice trembled and she bowed away under the tray she handed him. "Therefore, I ask you, even if you are a meany, do not leave me alone."

Surprised, he looked at her. She was indeed odd. Then he looked at the tray with a small mountain of colorfully painted cookies.

"I don't eat anything like that," he murmured, watching the undried pink glaze dripping down on the plate. He could almost see the sweet, sticky sugar clogging his veins.

"What?! I made them especially for you."

"I don't like sweet stuff. It's disgusting.”

"How dare you?! That's really not nice. When someone makes food for you, you are grateful and eat it, no matter what it is."

He folded his arms.

"Why should I? This crap is unhealthy, and I see no reason to eat something that I don't like just because of your feelings."

"You meany!"

"If you cook something good, I'll eat it."

"Do I look like I’m your kitchen maid?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Then don’t. I didn’t ask you to."

Angry, she got up and grabbed the tray.

"I liked Lady Loreen from the newspaper much better," she grumbled.

"Maybe that’s because Lady Loreen from the newspaper doesn’t exist. She and I don't share much more than our appearance."

She looked at him.

"I'm starting to agree with you. Well, fine! I'll cook something different for you, but you better eat that, understood?!"

"If I like it."

"Stop being so rude!"

He shrugged his shoulders again. "Hey, you do all of this voluntarily because you don't want to be alone. Don't expect gratitude from me."

She stamped her foot on the ground.

"I should have left you outside, maybe the monkeys would have eaten you up."

"Yeah, you could have," he replied, "but then you would still be alone."

Angry, she suppressed a small outcry and stormed out.

He laughed softly and leaned back; it was as if he were arguing with a young child.

But then once again he became aware of the situation, he was in. He didn't have time to think about angering that chick.

He pulled out the little transponder snail from under the blanket and pressed the little button again. It yawned widely and then raised its eyes, beeping quietly in front of him, and then somebody picked up.

-Mihawk-

He closed the door with pursed lips.

He had just bid Kanan and her family farewell, who faked to be taking the bedridden Lady Loreen home. Gonu, the family doctor, had promised to contact him as soon as they would arrive safely on Sasaki. The plan was anything but flawless and only needed a somewhat too suspicious official to catch them off guard, but considering how little time he had had, Mihawk was still satisfied. He also trusted Kanan enough to know that the plan would not fail, and even if it would, he was no longer in control by now. He had done what he had been able, had covered up Roronoa's disappearance and had driven Eizen away.

The only thing left for him now was to wait, to wait for Roronoa to reach out for him. 

Should he call him again?

No, it was irrational. Roronoa had not been able to pick up before, for whatever reason, yet he had tried to call Mihawk once, so it would be the best to wait for Roronoa to do so again.

Nevertheless, Mihawk held this little snail in his hands again. It was pathetic. A few hours ago, he had decided that the younger one was not supposed to be anything but his student, that their relationship was purely professional and that he would not be distracted by any earnest feelings.

The last few hours had proved the exact opposite.

With quiet steps he returned to his rooms, the little snail still in his hand. What had the other done to him?

The snail beeped quietly.

Before he knew what he was doing, he pressed the button.

For a moment it was dead silent, no one spoke.

"Hey."

He took a deep breath, hearing the voice of his little frog, rough and exhausted, but clearly Lady Loreen. He could feel the tension falling off and he dropped on the next best sofa. For a second, he just took a deep breath before rubbing his face with one hand.

"Hey, are you...?"

"Are you alone?" He interrupted the other wary. "Can you talk freely?"

"Yes, I can, but..."

"What the hell were you thinking, you disobedient, wayward child?!” He was barely able to control his voice. "Without any further notice you just disappear?! Do you actually have a clue what...?"

"Mihawk", the other mumbled, "nothing happened, okay?"

Once again, he rubbed through his face with one hand and took another deep breath. Anger would not help him right now.

"Are you safe?" He asked the most important question.

"Yes, at least I think so," the other replied plain.

"Where are you?" He asked the second most important question.

"Oh, to be honest, no idea."

"Excuse me?" He was surprised by how little that response shocked him.

"Yes, no idea. I am on some island with some castle and... I think there are wild monkeys or something, but like no people."

The Shichibukai paused for a moment; this description seemed strangely familiar, but he did not want to believe in such a coincidence.

"And how did you get there?" He asked, instead of thinking about probabilities.

The other was quiet for a moment.

"Roronoa!” He hissed more urgently.

"Have you... have you heard of my crew?" The voice of the youngster almost broke.

Mihawk sighed as the other confirmed his worst fears.

"You saw what happened, right? What Bartholomew Kuma did?" He replied more serene now.

"Yes," the other whispered softly, and then added, "I shouldn't have left."

But Roronoa evaded to explain what exactly he meant by that.

"Yes, that was extremely foolish of you. How do you come up with the idea of leaving the only safe place within the Holy Land?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," the other grumbled back. "What do you think I should have done? Order me some tea and biscuits and wait for his Lordship Dracule to come back from his oh so important meeting with the fucking Marines?!"

"Yes, you should have waited for me! Then I wouldn't have to search half the world for you!"

"What the hell? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you’ve left Mary Joa? Are you completely nuts, you have to..."

"No, Of course I didn't leave Mary Joa. Please, Roronoa, do you really think I would lose my countenance so quickly and give up my title, just on a wimp of finding you?"

"Konte... what?"

He sighed. Mutual accusations and teasing might be an entertaining pastime, but certainly not purposeful.

"Roronoa, let us focus. Do you know how you ended up on this island?"

It was quiet on the other side of the line.

"I was looking for Kuma."

This confession did not surprise him much either.

"And you found him." There was no question.

"I wanted to know what he had done with my crew."

"Of course," Mihawk muttered, leaning back. He just questioned everytime he had praised the other as wise, careful, or mature.

"And then he sent me away, like them."

Sighing, he realized that even that did not surprise him anymore.

"Does he know that Roronoa Zoro and Lady Loreen are one and the same person?" He asked.

"What? No, of course not!" Roronoa replied, his voice now even rougher than before.

"And what about the straw hats? Could he see a connection between them and Lady Loreen?"

The other took a moment too long to answer: "No, I... I don't think so.”

"You think? That would be something completely new to me."

"Stop nagging around. Nothing has..."

"Do not tell me that nothing has happened." Now he leaned forward. "Do you know what I had to do to make sure that no one notices how Lady Loreen had just disappeared from Mary Joa? Even Eizen asked for you."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you it was horrible for you to put Eizen in his place"

"Roronoa. I was worried about you. How should I know what had happened? You could just as easily have been kidnapped."

The other did not respond.

"It was reckless," Mihawk continued calmly, "it was reckless and thoughtless. You cannot allow yourself such actions anymore. There is too much at stake for such thoughtless behavior."

Roronoa was still silent.

"Although I can understand that you wanted to search for your crew."

The younger one laughed weakly: "Not that I found them."

"I am certain that if they are still alive, they will all try to reach their last meeting place,” Mihawk said aloud. A rather weak attempt to soothe Roronoa.

"The Sabaody Archipelago," the other muttered.

"Exactly."

“Then I have to go there."

He sighed, he had already expected that reply. He would have done the same when something like this would have happened to his crew, as he would still do it today, if something like this would happen to Roronoa.

Deeply sighing, he made a decision, betraying every thought he had about keeping the other at distance.

"As you wish; I will take off right away," he said coolly.

"Wait, what?" The other muttered surprised.

"Of course. You want to join your crew, I promised to help you with this intent, so..."

"But if you leave Mary Joa now before the war conference, you would lose your title, right? I thought the order to support the Marines was absolute."

Now that really surprised him. A soft smile crept on his lips.

"Roronoa, think about it a little bit more realistically. You are stranded somewhere only God knows, obviously exhausted as your voice tells me; you have no knowledge about manoeuvring a ship and I don't even want to discuss your lack of ability to read maps. With the help of the Vivre Card I should be able to find you quickly and unlike you, I am able to travel the world's oceans without getting lost."

It was a simple solution, the consequences of which he was well aware of, but he also had sorted his priorities by now.

"You want me to be realistic?" The other grumbled in plain annoyance. "You want to tell me that your strategy is smart? Abandoning your title just because you doubt that I can survive a few days without you? Damn it, what do you think I've done for the last twenty years of my life? I’ll be fine on my own."

"Yes, we have already seen how well this works. Let me recall, oh yes, in the East Blue I could have easily killed you, on Thriller Bark Kuma tried it and Nataku finally succeeded, you certainly did not waste any shot you had. So, excuse me if I have slight doubts about your survival strategy.” 

The other was silent.

"Do you finally understand?" Mihawk asked cold. It was not that he really wanted to give up his title just yet, the consequences could be immense, but if he had the choice between saving Roronoa's life or his title, then...

"No, absolutely not. I actually lack the words to describe how stupid you are," the other snorted scornfully.

"Excuse me?"

"And it seems his Lordship has hearing issues as well."

"Roronoa, this is not the time for jokes but..."

"I’m not joking! You can't leave before the war and you know that. It's stupid of you to put your title at risk so recklessly, just as reckless as it was for me to just up and leave. I thought you were smarter than me."

Stunned, Mihawk looked at the little snail in his hand, but he sighed. The younger one was right and that did not make him happy, not at all.

"Very well, then tell me what do you plan to do, Roronoa? You know that you will not reach the Sabaody Archipelago alive on your own and I can do without a second news of your death. Are you willing to wait until after next week? I did not expect you to be patient."

Roronoa, on the other hand, laughed sarcastically.

"I don't know," he murmured, “I don't think I have any other choice, do I? It's not the best solution and I kind of hate it, but it's probably the smartest one.”

The sound of his voice made it clear that Roronoa was everything but happy about this development. But Mihawk agreed with the younger one and was also quite surprised.

"If it helps you," the Shichibukai muttered conciliatorily, "I assume that your crew members will take much longer to arrive. Who knows where they are right now. Presumably, they will not be faster than you."

The other did not respond.

"You should sleep now, Roronoa, you do not sound good. We will talk to each other again later when I have more information for you. It would be helpful if you would use this time to find out more about your whereabouts."

He received no reply.

"Do you listen, Roronoa? Every little detail could be helpful, and do not do anything stupid, at least for once, please. Stay calm and try to gather strength."

A quiet even breathing was imitated by the snail.

"Asleep."

Shaking his head, he listened for a moment to the calm breathing; it had something pleasant, as if it were taking all tension out of his body.

It was only now that he realized that he had not been able to rest for more than a day now and that he appreciated a healthy sleep.

He allowed himself to slide to the side and slowly closed his eyes.

What a stupid, stupid kid and how lucky he was that nothing bad had happened to him.


	12. Chapter 8 - Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> guess who got off from work early to be able to upload the chapter in time, but still ended up being late?
> 
> But here we are now, so let's get startet ;-) Have a great time
> 
> P.S. And thanks for your lovely comments and kudos, every single one really makes my day!

Chapter 8 - Knowledge

-Zoro-

"Come on, do it!" She sat at the other end of the bed and stared at him nonstop, her hands placed on her thighs, while she was moving back and forth cross-legged.

Between them lay a plate with two pieces of cake; Zoro had actually eaten one of them despite them being way too sweet for him, dripping with bright yellow icing, but since then he felt nauseous.

By now he mourned Kanan’s cooking, he even mourned the food prepared by the damn cook.

"Come on! You can do it!"

"I'm not a dog, got it?"

"But I want to see it!" She lamented.

"I don't care," he growled.

"Well come on, I cooked especially for you."

Slowly they got louder.

"Throwing sugar and butter in a pot is not cooking!"

"It is! And now, transform!" She commanded, slapping the sheets.

"I can't!" He yelled.

Surprised, she leaned back and he, too, was surprised by his loud confession.

"What? Why?" Now she wasn’t as excited anymore.

“Because I don't know how. I have no idea how I changed," he finally admitted.

"Oh, so..." She tilted her head but after a moment she grinned scornful. "You're really stupid, aren't you?"

He stared at her. "Are you trying to make me kill..."

"Well, you were unconscious when you turned into a girl. So, it can't be that hard, right?"

Wordlessly, he watched her pounder. Perhaps she wasn't that wrong.

"Maybe that means it's easier for you to turn into a girl than a man. After all, you even made it while being unconscious."

Deliberating her words, he nodded. Despite her snappy behavior and her annoying hassle, the ghost chick could be right.

"Let's summarize," she muttered, "you don't know how to change and you're unintentionally turned into a girl again. But when I found you, you were a guy."

"What’s your point?" He grumbled unnerved.

"Do you know what you did when you turned into a guy?"

Zoro thought about it; he didn't know exactly what he had done to transform back into his original form, but he knew exactly what had triggered it.

"Actually, it's very simple," she said, tipping a finger against her chin.

"Oh, really?" He asked skeptically. If it was so easy, why had it taken him over a month to transform himself in the first place?

"Yes, of course, you just have to do exactly the same thing as when you transformed and BOOM, you're a man again. Although..." She looked at him with pouted lips. "You're so much cuter this way, maybe it would be better if I don't help you."

"Shut up!" He growled. But if he was honest, she was probably right.

Sighing, he decided to give it a try.

He looked at his hands on the white sheet and remembered the previous evening, recalled this feeling of horror when he had lost his friends one by one, recalled that despair when his captain had fallen to the ground.

He closed his eyes, letting this unrestrained energy of fear and terror flow through his veins. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, on the contrary, he didn't want to feel that way, didn't want to feel that pain, but then he realized it. Suddenly, as if the gates to hell were being torn open, he felt torrid. A consuming, painful heat, like a fire that devoured his intestines.

He opened his eyes and clung to the sheets, while this inner fire gradually burned him.

"What the..." Perona’s voice was far away, and although Zoro had his eyes wide open, everything was blurry and distorted, nothing more than an all-enrapturing vortex of light and shadow.

The sea of internal flames had reached his fingertips, he could hear his bones cracking, could feel tendons tearing and muscles bursting, could feel how each part of his body threatened to melt under the heat of those unseen flames.

He knew this heat, this pain, did not feel it for the first time.

But this time he clung to his mind and did not allow himself to faint under these inhuman torments.

Then it was over. Within a few heartbeats, the flames disappeared, leaving bland numbness and glaring pain behind, and then it was just over.

All he heard was his own hot breath and his fast-beating heart.

He had bowed his sweat-drawn forehead against the sheet, his wet hands still cramped, every muscle of his body was almost bursting apart.

Slowly he calmed down, breathed more evenly, allowed oxygen to fill his tired lungs.

"Unbelievable."

He could hear Perona whispering, her voice just a hint.

Carefully he leaned back, his view still blurred, noticed that Perona, holding the cake plate, had jumped from the bed and was now watching him.

"Z... Zoro?" She asked, almost anxiously.

He was still breathing heavily, and his body was still burning with exhaustion, but then he saw his hands, saw his tanned and gruff male hands.

He had done it!

He had transformed!

He was Roronoa Zoro again!

-Mihawk-

He woke up.

Grumbling he ruffled through his messy hair and was already annoyed with himself. He had fallen asleep on the sofa and his body was not quite thankful.

His gaze slid down to the small transponder snail that was sleeping next to him on the pillow. With a sigh, he put it back into his pocket and looked around.

His chambers were illuminated by a red light, the sun was just setting, he must have slept for several hours.

He looked over to the big clock, which was ticking silently, Kanan and her family must have reached Sasaki by now or would soon, unless something had happened, but in that case, he probably would have been notified.

Roronoa himself was apparently safe, on an island with a castle and dangerous primates.

Could it actually be Kuraigana? That would be an almost clichéd coincidence. Why should the youngster land on that island of all places? On Mihawk’s chosen home? His real home?

On the other hand, how had this idiot managed to run into Bartholomew Kuma - of all people who were in Mary Joa - without being seen by anyone else?

This boy seemed to have a very odd kind of luck.

Kuma's behavior, however, did not seem to be either coincidence or unbelievable fortune to him. It was not that Mihawk knew this weakling well enough, he almost detested the World Government’s bootlicker, but it seemed quite uncharacteristic to him that Kuma had intervened unquestioned in a situation that did not need him to take action. Since when did Kuma act out of line?

Without his intervention, the straw hats would have been captured; in the end his entrance had even helped them to escape, at least as far as the respective crew members had actually survived the power of Kuma’s devil power.

But even stranger was that he had also sent Roronoa away without even mentioning it apparently. A pirate in the Holy Land, just a few days before a war and Kuma did not report it?

Poundering, Mihawk walked over to the adjoining bathroom and began to undress. Under the shower, he looked at his distorted reflection in the glass.

In fact, this independent action without seeking first authorization by the World Government first did not fit Kuma at all. No, Mihawk was absolutely certain that something was off, and if he really were interested in that matter, he would take a closer look while he was here, dig deeper into the past of the other Shichibukai and find out every little dirty detail just to get a clear picture.

But if he was honest, he did not want to.

Kuma may have had his reasons, reasons that were obviously beyond the influence of the World Government, but that was fine for Mihawk. He would not get involved, after all he had to take care of Roronoa and that was already a challenge he could hardly master.

Mihawk turned off the water and walked out again.

His reflection in the mirror surprised him. He looked... softer. Yes, exactly. His wet hair was spiked into all directions, making him look younger and hotheaded. His untrimmed beard blurred the sharp line of his jaw and somehow the man in front of him seemed more relaxed than he was familiar with.

Sighing, he started correcting this softer, gentler image of himself by first taming his beard and then his hair. This was already going too far!

Lady Loreen was allowed to act as his weakness, Roronoa was his weakness, but he would never become weak, never again!

He was no longer the weak boy of that time and nothing should ever remind him of it.

Satisfied with his work, he dried up and dressed again, no longer reeking of dried sweat, no longer looking weak.

Arriving in his rooms, he strolled over to the in-house transponder snail and ordered something to eat. If he already had to spend his free time here, the World Government could at least treat him to some reasonable wine.

Over and over again, his right hand slipped into his pocket and patted the small transponder snail, as if his subconscious desperately wanted him to call Roronoa.

But the other one was probably even asleep.

“Argh!”

Angry, he ruffled through his hair, destroyed his carefully groomed hairstyle, and kicked against the already broken screen lying on the ground, which then crushed against the next wall.

Why was he not able to think about something else? About somebody else?

When had this cursed child decided to become master of his thoughts?!

How dare he…?!

"Geez, Hawky."

Surprised, he rushed around. In the room door stood no other but Rear Admiral Cho Jiroushin, in front of him a small wagon with food and drinks.

"What are you doing, Hawky?" His green eyes under the Marine cap were wide open and his boyish face could not hide the surprise.

"Jiroushin, what are _you_ doing _here_?" Mihawk, too, was confused; there was no reason for his friend to be present at all. Did he not have enough work to do? Why did he show up in Mary Joa and especially in this room?

"What are you doing in my rooms without knocking first and like a servant with this wagon?"

The blond laughed.

"Listen to the spoiled upper-class brat complaining. Today, they’re not called servants, but employees."

"Tze, a few blocks down the road they are still called slaves."

The other closed the door behind him and came closer with large steps. As if they had not seen each other for ages, the Rear Admiral embraced Mihawk and hugged him, though Jirous had helped him train Roronoa just a few days ago. No, rather the other had trained Lady Loreen and Mihawk had watched.

"What are you doing, Jirou? We are no longer children."

"Oh, stop complaining. I was worried."

Unimpressed, Mihawk raised an eyebrow and brushed off the other's arms.

"About me?"

"Of course, and about Loreen."

Mihawk walked over to the wagon and pushed it in front of one of the sofas.

"Your overprotective behavior will one day be your doom, my friend," he said cold.

Jirou followed him and sat down next to him while he was already opening the wine.

"Look, who’s talking,” Jirou replied with a subtle grin, but Mihawk ignored him. “Stop avoiding me, Hawky. Drop the act, I know you too well for that."

Mihawk did not respond while filling two glasses with the crimson liquid. Meanwhile, his childhood friend opened up the buffet.

"So? Gonou just called me and told me that he and Kanan brought Loreen back to Sasaki. She doesn’t seem to be doing well, right?"

Mihawk shrugged his shoulder.

"Why did he call you? He was supposed to inform me," was all he could say without lying to his childhood friend.

Jirou muttered something dissatisfied under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

Mihawk as well filled his plate before his friend would eat it all.

"Well, I rush over here for you to share the important news about the lady of your heart and you’re..."

"Lady of my heart?" He asked, while the other continued to ramble.

“And you're not even grateful. I understand that you care about your great love but still..."

"My great love?" He looked at the blond with raised eyebrows. "You are aware that this foolish child is nothing more than that, a foolish child?"

"Ohohoh Hawky, you don't fool me. Everybody knows how much she means to you, and I have already given you my blessing."

"Yes, I still don't know for what I would need your blessing."

The other poured himself some more wine.

Mihawk sighed, it was pointless to argue with the other about this topic; no matter how often he explained that Roronoa and him had no romantic feelings, Jiroushin would never believe him, Mihawk himself had made sure of that by building up all those lies about Lady Loreen. Now he had to live with the consequences.

"So Hawky, how are you?"

He shrugged his shoulders and began to eat. How this charade annoyed him, but it was necessary to protect Roronoa.

"Say, Jirou. What are you doing here? A war is just around the corner, a war against Whitebeard. All the officers will be on high alert and I can imagine that work has only piled up after your vacation. Why are you here?" He asked, even though he knew the answer. He knew his childhood friend too well, too long, to not know why the other had come over.

"You know why," the other replied accordingly, "after our phone call, I was worried about you. I thought you might be doing something stupid."

Mihawk grinned awkwardly. "No matter how many years go by, you cannot stop worrying about me, can you?"

The Rear Admiral laughed aloud: "Of course not. However, I admit that I have been much less concerned about you during the last few weeks than usual."

Mihawk looked at the other questioning.

"Well, because of Loreen", the other clarified.

Mihawk sighed and looked at his almost empty glass. He had never lied to Jiroushin, perhaps he had not always told him everything, not always revealed the whole truth to him, but never lied. Not because he had scruples to do so. No, such an unnecessary sense of honor was nonsense and completely out of place in this world. Sometimes a lie was necessary and for the better good of all, no, he had no problem at all with distorting the truth when it was appropriate.

The reason he had never lied to Jirou was a very different one, a much simpler one. It had never been necessary, there had never been anything he had needed to hide from the other, from his best and closest friend.

But with Roronoa's appearance, even that had changed.

It was a strange feeling, not really foreign and yet unfamiliar.

He was also disturbed by how much his best friend interpreted into Mihawk's relationship with his little frog. It was incredibly annoying.

They continued to eat in consensual silence.

“Hawky?”

“Hmm?”

"It's okay," muttered the other.

Mihawk looked stubbornly ahead into the darkening night.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid, you know? If I may remind you, our last chess game was eternity ago, but it took days."

"Just because you dislike playing for time."

"Playing against you for time is boring. A game without restrictions is much more interesting."

"Well, you might be right about that."

They were silent again.

"Will you ever tell me the truth?"

For a long time, Mihawk was quiet but then he sighed.

"That is not in my control, my friend. However, I cannot stop you from finding out the truth yourself."

For a moment, Jiroushin was also still.

"And if I just ask Loreen for the truth myself?"

Mihawk could not prevent a quiet laugh.

"I doubt you can avoid relying on your own mind."

"Oh, that's mean," the other mumbled before he began to think aloud. "I think she's kind of related to this Roronoa Zoro. I mean the same hair, both swordfighters, and she showed up at your place shortly after his death. Would also explain her connection to the straw hats. So, how close am I?"

"Not even at the same ocean; your deductions are superficially, as often, Jiroushin. Why should the sister of Roronoa Zoro come to me after his death and not go directly to the straw hats? Why would I agree to train his sister while Roronoa Zoro wanted to defeat me and yet was nothing more than a novice?"

"Yes, I've been thinking about that. Especially because all of this is so contrary to your usual behavior. It's also hard to filter what's correct from the newspaper and what's not. Kanan and Lirin seem to know something, but neither of them would tell me anything at all."

"Well, that just speaks for the fact that your investigative skills are not as good as you always think."

The other sighed heavily and dropped against the back of the sofa.

"I've already thought about all possible sorts of scenarios and yet nothing really meaningful comes around."

"Maybe you should consider the impossible."

"What?" Jiroushin looked at him awkwardly. "That doesn't make any sense at all."

Mihawk shrugged his shoulder and decided to drop the topic.

"Say, are you fine with not being home yet? Lirin must be worried and furious at the same time."

"Oh, don't worry, there's some stupid session for the Rear Admirals tonight, so I have to be here."

"Oh, I thought you had come here just to tell me the news of _the lady of my heart,"_ he grinned sarcastically.

"Stop it, you idiot. I've cut off work earlier because of you. I don't know why I have to attend such an evening event, but I really don't want to sit around for five hours or so."

"I would dare to suspect that it might be related to the approaching war and that the World Government could not better integrate the instruction of minor Rear Admirals into the schedule."

" _Minor_?"

"When is this event even going to take place?"

"At eight, why?"

He nodded over to the clock.

"Oh, holy shit!!!"

"Language, please."

But the Rear Admiral had already jumped up and ran to the door.

“Jirou?“

“What?!“

Mihawk turned towards him and pointed to the wagon with the finished meal.

"Do you please take back what you brought?"

"Kiss my ass!"

Loudly, the door behind the other slammed shut.

Laughing, Mihawk got up and pushed the wagon outside, where it was no longer his problem.

It was at that very moment that his problem called.


	13. Chapter 9 - Changes

Chapter 9 - Changes

-Zoro-

He lasted for a total of three hours, managed to preserve his own body for three hours.

He quickly realized that beneath the physical exhaustion, beneath the numb pain of transforming, a quiet throbbing had been hidden and while he had recovered and argued with Perona more or less productively, this throbbing had become stronger and more unpleasant.

Now it had stopped completely.

Probably because he had given in a few seconds ago and had immediately turned back into Lady Loreen.

But unlike his transformation to Roronoa Zoro, it had not hurt at all this time. On the contrary, although he was exhausted, he was actually only tired and weary, otherwise he was fine.

"It's weird," muttered Perona, watching him closely. "When you become a girl, it happens really fast and it looks almost elegant. But when you transform into a man, it takes almost minutes and you can literally feel how painful must be, not to mention that you've screamed like a stuck pig."

"I did?" He asked, leaning back. He couldn't even remember that.

She nodded: "Mhm, looked as if you were about to rip yourself to pieces any moment, never saw anything like it. It was horrible."

"Why didn't you just leave?"

He was tired. Transforming back and forth was exhausting and Perona didn't make it any better, but if he was quite honest, she was kind of okay, even if he would never admit it.

"And miss that? No, definitely not. That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life.” Now she grinned and he regretted his praise immediately.

He was cowering on the floor, still in the clothes he had borrowed from Mihawk, that were now far too big.

"You're really cute now," Perona said, kneeling down beside him. "If you didn't glare at me like that, I could easily forget that you're such a nasty guy."

Sighing, he tried to straighten up, but his body denied its service.

"Listen, Perona." Slowly he came back to his feet. “No matter how many times you say it, it doesn't change who I am, and I really can't stand you calling me cute or sweet or whatever.”

"But it's true...," she murmured puffing her cheeks. "I mean even in these rags; every guy would fall for you."

She sighed: "What would I give to dress you up just once. I could turn this sweet little thing into a real femme fatale."

He laughed coldly. Why did all women want to abuse him as a dressing doll?

"You? You look like a five-year-old zombie chick and you want to dress me up? Certainly not, I'm better off walking around naked."

Again, she puffed her cheeks.

“I'm twenty-five, asshole, not five. By the way, in theses pictures you’re the one looking like a child." Out of nowhere, she pulled out some newspaper articles again and laid them out in front of him. He didn't pay attention to them. Rather, he was surprised that she was actually older than him.

"I don't care what I look like. I'm not interested in this girl stuff.”

He walked away.

"But you're a girl, at least partly."

Surprised, he stopped. Jade had told him once that Loreen would be a part of him, a part he would never be able get rid of.

"The girl in you is the dominant body, that’s the reason why you've turned back against your will."

He turned around. Perona was right and he hated that. He didn't like the fact that she had figured it out before he had.

"That's why you should know what's important for girls."

"Tze, not all women care about clothes. There are much more important things."

"Wait a sec." Sie followed him as he left the room. "Where are you going?"

"I want to find out what kind of island we’re stuck on, what it’s called, where it’s located or whatever. Anything that might help Hawk Eyes to find it."

He was still tired, but it was much easier for him to recover as Loreen than in his original body, and he hated that as well.

"The island is called Kuraigana," Perona said behind him, and again he stopped.

He had heard that name before, but he couldn’t recall where or when. He looked at her.

"How do you know that?"

They were about the same size, so it was very easy to stare at her directly. After all those tall men and women of Sasaki, it was almost pleasant not having to look up ro somebody.

She folded her arms.

"I've been here for weeks. Don't you think I've tried everything I can to get away from here? But apart from a small boat I found nothing, but that would be suicide on the open sea. Although I absolutely want to find Master Moria."

"So, you think he actually made it?"

“Of course, he's still alive! Don’t you dare doubting his abilities!" In her rage, several ghosts rose from her body, whose ability Zoro knew only too well.

Calmingly, he raised his hands.

"Yeah sorry, my fault, you’re probably right, otherwise the World Government would have had to replace him, which seems to be bothersome. He's probably already on Mary Joa."

He could really do without being touched by those ghosts.

Perona nodded. "Exactly. He has to be fine."

Now that she had calmed down again, the ghosts disappeared.

Meanwhile they were wandered through the big castle, although maze would be a more fitting description. No door led where he’d expected it to, and every stairway seemed to have another aim than it should. It was not particularly helpful that he repeatedly stumbled over the far too long trousers even though he had already pulled the waistband up to his chest.

"What are you actually doing? Is there something you plan on going?" Perona asked after a while obviously annoyed, while continuing to follow him around.

"Outside," he murmured.

"What? We’ve already walked past the entrance three times."

He stared at her.

"What are you talking about?"

She shook her head. "You're really stupid, aren’t you?"

Now she went ahead and led him through a hallway that already seemed familiar to him.

"What else have you found out?" He asked, ignoring her insult.

She shrugged her shoulders and walked on. "Not much, we are the only people on this island. Apart from this castle there’s nothing but trees and ruins here and these wild monkeys."

"Monkeys?"

They had reached a heavy double door and Perona pushed it open.

Walking outside, Zoro looked around. Thick wafts of fog hung in the air, blocking almost any sunlight. It was hard to tell if it was day or night as the sky was just dreary and grey.

"The ruins are somewhere in this direction and the monkeys are usually close by." Perona pointed to his left, but except for forest and fog he could see nothing, certainly no sea.

"And these monkeys attacked you?"

She nodded: "They’re no ordinary animals. They have weapons and are pretty good at throwing them at me. They don’t come near the castle, but as soon as you’re close to the forest they attack."

"Aha." Zoro looked closely at his surroundings. These monkeys did not worry him, even if he was slightly curious about them apparently being able to fight.

Then he turned around again and walked back inside.

"Wait a second, why are you going in now, I thought you wanted to get outside." Upset, she followed him.

"I just wanted to know what this island looks like and what time it is. But with the weather you can't see anything."

She snorted. "Do you know what watches are for?"

He just kept walking.

"Wrong direction." She grabbed him by the forearm and dragged him along. "Gosh. There are moments you seem so cool and then you do something like this...”

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

After the quiet and thoughtful Mihawk, this girl was quite bothersome. She was loud as Nami and annoying as the cook but at the same time as childish as Luffy. He had no idea how to survive the days to come without killing her.

"So, you say that Hawk Eyes is coming to pick you up?" She said when they reached the room where he had woken up in.

He nodded. "Yeah, after the war."

"Do you think he would take me along?"

"I thought you like it here?"

He dropped back on the bed and yawned.

"Yes, of course, you saw the island. A beautiful, creepy landscape and this old castle is magnificent. But all on my own, without servants and sweet cuddly toys, it is quite lonely and miserable."

He did not respond, but slowly began to braid his hair because it kept bothering him.

"You have to comb it first, otherwise you'll rip out all the tangled hairs," she murmured. "Oh gosh, how stupid are you?"

She sighed and walked over to a dresser.

“I've only been a woman for a month, cut me some slag," he grumbled, but allowed her to stand behind him with a hairbrush, combing his hair.

"So, what do you say? Would he take me along? To any island so that I can search for Master Moria?"

"We will travel to the Sabaody Archipelago."

"Really? That would be perfect."

"However, I can't promise you that Hawk Eyes will let you tag along. He is not exactly some good-natured saint."

"What?" He could hear in her voice that she was desperate.

"But if you don't annoy me too much, I may can convince him."

When had he become so soft?

"Would you do that?"

Sighing, he folded his arms.

"Well, after all, you prevented the monkeys from eating me and brought me inside, didn’t you?" He grinned sarcastically. Maybe he would get along with her without actually killing her.

"Can I ask you something?" She mumbled and began to braid his hair. It felt different from Kanan, not as firm, but he didn’t mind. "If you just learned how to transform, does Hawk Eyes know who you really are?"

That question surprised him. Should he lie? Would hiding the truth protect Mihawk? But was lying even necessary? What would he achieve by doing so?

"Yes, he knows," he replied briefly.

"Oh," came as answer before she asked, "do you have a hair tie?"

"Do I look like I do?"

She muttered something under her breath, and he could feel her pulling his hair a little more.

"Does he know that you can transform now? Did you tell him?"

"When would I have been able to tell him that?"

She patted his shoulder as a sign that she was done and then walked away.

"Oh come on, I'm not stupid. Don’t think I haven't seen you stare at this transponder snail all the time. You certainly talked to him. So, did you tell him?"

"None of your business."

"That’s a ‘No’."

Instead of a lengthy discussion, they unanimously agreed to eat something, with Zoro already longing for his bed again as he followed Perona through the castle.

To his surprise, the castle’s pantry was filled up to the last corner, as if someone was actually living here.

"We’re almost out of sugar," Perona lamented, but Zoro completely ignored her over the slices of smoked ham. For the first time, he could really understand his captain’s desire for meat.

A short time later, he walked back to his room with a bottle of wine. Well, actually Perona delivered him at the doorstep; she slept in the room opposite. Both rooms were located directly above the kitchen and close to the entrance. He assumed that they once had been servants’ rooms.

The ancient clock above the door told him it was just after 8 p.m.

With a small sigh, he reached for the transponder snail with one hand and opened the wine bottle with the other. He had also found harder booze, but since he didn't really tolerate much in this body, he would wait with the sake until the next day, when he would successfully transform into his original body.

Zoro had tried to transform again while eating, but it had not worked. Perona had suspected that he was too exhausted and since he could not deny it, he had accepted her presumption for now.

He drank a few sips of the red liquid. He had never been a fan of wines, but since he had spent time the Shichibukai, he had started to drink and even like the grape juice.

The little snail in his hand beeped a few times and then it got picked up on the other side of the line.

For a second, none of them said anything.

"Hey," Zoro muttered, taking another sip.

"You sound even worse than you did this morning," came the cool answer immediately, "I thought I told you to rest?"

The alcohol began to warm him from the inside. He grumbled approvingly and put the bottle next to him.

"Are you alone? Can you talk freely?" The little transponder snail raised an eyebrow and copied the questioning face of the Shichibukai almost too good.

"Yes, of course," Zoro muttered, taking another sip.

"Very good. So, you know where you are now?" The other sounded like always, but something was different, or was Zoro just imagining it?

"Yeah, Kunei, wait how was it? Kuri.. Kuwai..."

The other sighed: "Kuraigana?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"Really?"

"Yes, Perona said that’s the name."

"Who is Perona?"

"Oh, doesn’t matter, just some girl. She was also sent here by Kuma and is actually quite okay."

For a moment, the other was silent.

"Well, that is actually the best outcome I could have hoped for."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Unfortunately, his bottle was already half empty, he should slow down.

"You remember this island I told you about? The island I normally live on instead of Sasaki?"

"Mhm," he muttered recalling those conversations.

"This is Kuraigana. I already had the presumption when you told me about the countryside. What a strange coincidence."

Oh, so that meant he was actually drinking Hawk Eye's wine, right?

"That means you know where it is?"

“That means you are not far away at all. That is excellent. Kuraigana, there is no one for you to worry about. My storage chambers are filled sufficient. You can wait for me there pleasantly."

Pleasantly?

He was rarely as aware of how different they were as he was right now.

Of course, he knew about their different family backgrounds, but did the other really think that he would pleasantly wait here for the Shichibukai to come by and pick him up? That a castle with fine wines was pleasantly for him? That he needed something like that? Especially while he didn't even know if his friends were still alive?

They were indeed very different.

"Why are you so quiet, Roronoa?"

He looked at the bottle in his hand. What would the other think of it if he saw him drinking a wine right out of the bottle. Zoro had never been ashamed of who he was and what he was. Had never thought of being better or worse. He was just who he was.

This had never been a problem with his crew, sure someone had complained about something at some point, like always when several different types of people were packed together on a tiny space day in and day out. But no one had tried to change him.

On Sasaki it had been different.

Kanan had insisted on treating him like some lady, asking him to behave like some lady. He had thought that had been because of his new body. He had adapted to his new body.

But Mihawk knew who he was, had always known who he was.

But even though the other saw him, understood him, he still tried to educate him, to reprimanding him. But not only that. Mihawk tried to change him and Zoro no longer knew whether this was only because the other wanted to help him or whether he wanted to turn Zoro into another Dracule.

"Roronoa, talk to me, is something troubling you?"

He sighed. He had completely forgotten that alcohol made him think, and now he was brooding about such strange things just because the other had thought that Zoro would have it comfortable in this castle.

The worst was not that the other wanted to change him for whatever reason. The worst of all was that Zoro had tried to adapt. He had tried to behave, had tried to act in a way that... that what? That he got by? That he could survive? Or was it something else? 

Why did Zoro worry about being different from Mihawk? Why did he suddenly worry because of some stupid word?

_Pleasantly?_

Stupid wine!

“Roronoa?”

"I..." His voice broke. What did he want to say?

“Anyway, you are safe there. That is the priority," said the other after a moment, before clearing his throat. “But you should stay inside. The Humandrills – these are the primates you have talked about – have acquired human fighting techniques and I suspect they are still too strong for you at the moment. They would probably kill you. So, stay inside of the castle."

It annoyed him that the other thought he wouldn't be able to keep up with a few monkeys, and even more annoyed him that the other talked to him like he thought Zoro was stupid.

"Of course, I'm not a moron," he murmured angrily.

Mihawk at the other end of the connection sighed deeply: "I never said you are, Roronoa. Please, do not put such insults in my mouth."

Zoro swallowed. Their conversation certainly shouldn't go into that direction, so he decided to change the subject.

"Say, Mihawk," he muttered, "is everything okay on your side?"

"On my side?" The Shichibukai chuckled quietly, obviously relieved and amused by Zoro's choice of words.

"Yes, everything is fine _on my side._ The next few days will be quite boring. The other Shichibukais are arriving one by one and the World Government probably wants to prevent us from running into each other, so I will doubtless attend many meetings."

"Do you know if Gecko Moria is there?"

"Hmm?" The other yawned. "Yes, he had been treated here on Mary Joa, his wounds from your fight are still not completely healed."

"Oh, really?"

"Roronoa. Jirou was here today. He is gradually getting suspicious. He knows me well and, as you know, he is no moron either. He still eliminates the possibility of your survival, but it is only a matter of time before he will doubt the story of Lady Loreen."

Zoro looked at the little transponder snail.

"Do you want to tell him the truth?" He asked calmly.

"This is not about what I want," the other replied calmly. “You just have to be aware that he will find out at some point and then we will have a problem.”

Zoro nodded. "Don't worry, I'm well aware of that."

Their conversation lasted a few more minutes in which they talked about less important things before the elder finally wanted to go to sleep.

For security reasons, they agreed that the Shichibukai would not contact him again until he left for Kuraigana or if something unexpected happened. Zoro himself would only call if he was in danger, not that Zoro actually planned on calling, especially not if he would get into danger.

After their conversation, he lay awake for a long time and looked at the stone ceiling above him.

Early the next morning, he transformed. Surprisingly, he was able to do it this time, even if the transformation itself was as painful as before. It took him almost an hour to gain the strength to put his plans into action.

Taking his swords on his way to the door, he noticed his own reflection.

He had changed.

Of course, the three earrings were missing, instead the delicate golden cross hung around his neck, but it felt good to face himself again. With proud chest and squared shoulders, he left the room.

In the hallway, he met Perona, who was floating through the corridors.

"What are you going to do?" She asked him as he searched for the exit.

"I'm going outside."

"What?! Why should you want to do that? With all those monkeys trying to kill us!"

He grinned.

"That's why. I want to defeat them!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> this time I'm right on time and I'm damn happy (and slightly proud) about that. 
> 
> First things first, the upcomming week I will be on my first vaccation for 5 years (actually I'm just visiting my sister, but one week without any appointments, no job, no studying, so who the hell cares) and even though I'll be taking my laptop along I don't know whether I'll have the time to upload the next chapter (even though I really want to, because finally things will get interesting), so please be patient with me^^'
> 
> Second things second, I managed to finish the first draft of the translation last night (and hell yeah I'm proud about that one, because as you know those are a total of 63 chapters), so after I come back I will start posting twice a week and if you have any preferences about which days, just tell me ;-)
> 
> And last but not least, thank you all for your kind words and kudos. I know most people are wary about WIPs (especially long ones), so knowing that some people actually dare to tag along on this trip really makes me happy.
> 
> Have an awesome weekend and maybe till next week ;-)


	14. Chapter 10 - Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> thank you all for your lovely words, I promise I will answer later, when I'm back home and have a stable connection and enough time without my cute little niece trying to type for me^^'.
> 
> My vaccation has been great so far (thanks again, you guys are so sweet^^), but I managed to sneak away for a few hours to revise and upload this chapter, because I didn't want you guys to wait for too long.
> 
> Starting next chapter I will upload twice a week, I have not made up my mind yet on which days, but I will give you notice (or the bookmark might take care of it ;-P).
> 
> So enjoy, and have a great weekend. See you all next week ;-)

Chapter 10 - Reunion

\- One week later -

-Zoro-

"Stop running away. I'm not done yet."

"I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"You’re not fine! The moment you’ll transform you’ll keel over."

"I'm fine! I still have at least three hours left."

"So what? No injury heals within three hours."

"Stop worrying about me. You’re annoying!"

"I'm not worried about you. But if Hawk Eyes shows up and you're dead guess who’s head he’ll be taking? I can do without that."

Zoro and Perona walked through the corridors of the castle, he with his swords, she with gauze and bandages.

"You want to fight those monsters again?" She muttered, but didn't stop him, "you're already injured enough. At some point they'll kill you."

"I haven't beaten all of them yet," he murmured coolly, stepping outside, "and as I recover, they do as well and become stronger."

He couldn't prevent a grin. These monkeys were strong, fast, and merciless, the perfect training partners.

"You can stay here. It's too dangerous for you out there.”

She snorted: "As if I'm going to leave you alone in the woods again. I searched for you for five hours just because you got lost again."

He did not respond, but walked down the stairs, knowing that she would follow him in her ghost form soon.

Hawk Eyes had called, the war was over and the Shichibukai had already left fetching his coffin boat.

Zoro knew that the other would not take too long, so he had to defeat all the monkeys as soon as possible.

It had been a matter of pride that the other had advised him not to go outside. Like a little child who had to go home at dawn. The other did not take him seriously! Still did not take him seriously!

"There you are. The ruins are straight ahead, you're running in the completely wrong direction again." Perona appeared between two treetops and flew down to him.

Zoro followed her, tearing down a few of his bandages that restricted his movements.

Except for a few hours, Perona had always been close to him. Had watched him fight, then led him back to the castle and then taken care of his wounds.

It was annoying but he suspected that she simply did not want to be alone. When she didn't spend her free time with him, she was in the castle trying to cook.

She was terribly bad at it. Luckily, all the sugar, honey, and whatever else she could have used to sweeten things up were empty by now, so it was almost impossible for her to prepare anything sweet, which she suffered greatly from.

He, on the other hand, was mostly satisfied with simple things that could be eaten without much effort. Certainly not the most elegant solution but it was practical and fast.

He had used the last week to become stronger, to become better. Not only by fighting against the Humandrills, as Mihawk had called them. Together with the non-stop babbling Perona, he had talked more unintentionally than intentionally about his transformation repeatedly and even though she was certainly annoying, he had to admit that she had helpful ideas.

Every morning he had turned into his original form, had felt the pain every time and had gradually gotten used to it. He also kind of imagined that he needed less and less time to recover from the transformation. After that, he had always gone fighting.

For the first few days he had only managed to stay in his true body for a few hours, but at some point it became so painful that he had not been able to do anything else but sit down and endure, until he had to give in to the relentless throbbing. The transformation back to Loreen, on the other hand, was almost liberating, he was exhausted, but this pain, this throbbing, disappeared the instant his change was complete, leaving him behind simply tired.

But yesterday he had actually managed to stomach until the late afternoon and, as Perona had correctly remarked, it meant that he could train the period of time he could stay in his own body. If he was able to extend those intervals, he could stay longer in his true form, maybe not having to transform into Lady Loreen at all. But yesterday he had also been much more exhausted and had slept through the whole night until the midday hours.

Another problem was that wounds he didn't even notice in his actual body were almost unbearable for him as Loreen. A small flesh wound on his thigh, hardly worth mentioning, had almost made him faint as Loreen.

Perona was right. As Loreen it was difficult for him to tolerate such injuries, and since Zoro could not prevent himself from transforming again, he could only prevent himself from getting injured.

Mihawk had tried to engrave this task in his mind from the beginning, had emphasized that Zoro needed to learn to pay attention to such small things because his female body was much weaker, but now in his old body he had to be careful not to fall into old habits.

After a month as Loreen, he found it almost difficult to carry the weight of Rhis true form again, to recall the size of his body, to control the movements of his muscles. In relation to the flyweight of his female shape, this body moved almost sluggish and dull.

Another problem was that he could not transform back into his true form for several hours after his body forced him to turn into Loreen. Maybe it was because he was exhausted or whatever, but he didn't know for sure and that confused him. It confused him that he didn't know what was happening to his own body, but he didn't have time to be distracted by it; he didn’t allow himself to start brooding over this, because he had more important things to worry about.

While he was fighting the monkeys, he tried to ignore all these things, tried to enjoy the pure feeling of the fight, but he wasn’t quite able to do so.

Since he had ended up on Kuraigana he slept poorly. As soon as he woke up, everything was nothing more than a colorful whirlwind of memories and images. But somehow these strange dreams didn't let him be. But he didn't want to think about that now either, so he fought.

Hours passed and the insatiable monkeys gradually grew tired, for the first time in a week the monkeys withdrew on their own.

"Oh, did you actually beat them?" Perona squatted on the top of the huge cross, which was probably a tomb.

"For the time being," he murmured, putting his swords away before turning to leave. Now he couldn't resist a quiet grin, he had done it, finally he had been the one to make the opponent retreat and not vice versa.

"Hey, where are you going?" She flew after him.

"Back to the castle, today's fight is over. They need to treat their wounds."

"Same goes for you," Perona said as she flew over him, pointing at his head.

It was the only injury he had not been able to prevent today, but it was a pretty stupid one, right in the middle of the forehead, because he hadn’t notice the slingshot of one of the weaker monkeys while he had concentrated on his three main challengers.

As soon as he arrived at the castle, he began to clean his swords. He could already feel the annoying throbbing; a sign that his body would need to change soon.

"Let me take a look at your head," Perona muttered, coming into his room, now back in her body, "you have to treat such wounds."

He let her do what she needed to while he took care of his swords.

"You're even calmer today than usual," she complained. "Is it because Hawk Eyes will be here soon?"

He did not respond but put Shuusui away.

She wrapped a bandage around his head. Since he had told her that Moria was still alive, she was in a much better mood. This strange man of a monster seemed to be very important to her, not that Zoro really cared, nevertheless he had asked Mihawk about the guy.

"Done." She got up. "You really should pay more attention. Do you enjoy fighting so much? Putting your body through so much pain can't be healthy at all."

He looked up to her. On the first day of his training, she had saved him with her hollow-ghosts. He had collapsed in the middle of the battle in front of the monkeys when the throbbing had suddenly developed into an irrepressible pain and she had prevented the horde of primates from killing him.

"It's not about simple enjoyment," he said calmly, nodding in appreciation for her help, "I want to be the best, the very best swordsman, that's my dream and a few monkeys won't stop me from doing so."

She shook her head. "Men."

Then she went out and he enjoyed a few minutes without her presence.

The last few days had been exhausting. He had given himself little rest, had given himself little opportunity to think. He wasn't allowed to think about how his crew was doing, whether they were all still alive, and he wasn't allowed to think about the fact that there had been a war he had no information about.

The last thing at least would probably change as soon as the Shichibukai would show up, after all, he had fought on the front line. But the way the other had spoken to Zoro during their last call had made it obvious that there was something important that Mihawk wanted to discuss with him in person. The other had kept something from him, something he didn't want to tell Zoro via transponder snail.

It had to be something about his crew or Eizen, what else could be important to Zoro?

Suddenly he got up and rushed out of the door, chased down the hallway and the stairs.

"Hey, what the..." Perona just came out of the kitchen at the heel of the stairs, but he ran past her.

"We're no longer alone," he said, surprised that she hadn't even noticed.

"What... How?" Sie followed him to the hallway, where he opened the door to the entrance hall, almost at the same time one side of the double-sided gate opened.

Zoro stopped.

In front of him stood Mihawk, who paused as well and just looked at him for a moment.

Zoro hadn't told him that he had managed to transform himself, and now he was facing him. It was the first time since that day in the East Blue that he faced Mihawk as himself, as Roronoa Zoro.

The other was no longer that superbly tall, but the Shichibukai still looked at him with big eyes. For a second, the world seemed to freeze in time.

“Roronoa.”

Within the next heartbeat, the other stood directly in front of him, looked down at him for another second, and then embraced him.

Zoro didn’t move, he had not expected that..

Of course, he and the Shichibukai were no longer the enemies they had been when they had faced each other in the East Blue, yet Mihawk was no one to be overwhelmed by emotions, no one to show them that openly.

Zoro didn't know what to do. This wasn't Luffy, whom he could just push away if he was too annoyed by his hugs, or Chopper he would pat a few times before brushing his little hooves off.

Finally, the elder took a step back and placed both hands on Zoro's shoulders. He looked at Zoro with a confused expression on his face.

"So, you are able to transform," he muttered.

"You’ve just realized that now?" Zoro murmured. "Didn't you notice the difference in size, the hair, the voice?"

The other grinned awkwardly. "You are not that much taller now."

"Oh, shut up!"

He slapped the other's hands away, but Hawk Eyes still smiled in amusement.

"On my way to the castle I saw the Humandrills," the Shichibukai mumbled, his smile nothing but a memory, "I worried I would not find you alive."

Zoro looked away, blushing offended.

"You really have that little confidence in me?" He asked softly. "Do you really doubt that I can keep up with some monkeys?"

Mihawk half-heartedly shook his head. "It is probably one of my biggest misconducts to always underestimate you."

Was that sarcasm or was he serious?

Still, the older man looked at him, his golden-yellow eyes pinched in a highly concentrated way, regarding Zoro like a piece of art.

"What?" Zoro murmured, not liking how the other one kept staring at him.

"Something is different, you look different."

Zoro folded his arms. "Yes, of course, I'm me again."

“I was not talking about that. No, you wore earrings before, right?”

Unintentionally, Zoro grabbed his left ear. It was true, of course they were missing. "What did you expect? They melted in the fire."

The other nodded in agreement, still seemingly pondering about something.

Suddenly Mihawk took a step forward again and pulled Zoro's shirt to aside.

“Hey, what the…?”

"Oh." Mihawk took a deep breath and just then Zoro realized that the other was staring at the upper end of his scar.

He watched the elder examine his scar, his eyes glided along the shirt as if the other was able to see the scar beneath it. It was only now that Zoro realized that it was the first time the other saw this scar.

Grinning, Zoro took a step back and then simply took off his shirt.

The other’s reaction did kind of surprise Zoro, after all, it was nothing more but a scar. Admittedly a scar that was of deep importance to Zoro himself, but probably less so for the Shichibukai.

"I marked you at that time." The voice of the Shichibukai was calm but there was something subliminal that Zoro could not define. "And one day you will mark me just as well."

Zoro grinned and put his shirt back on. "You bet I will."

Mihawk grinned now as well.

"Gosh, what tension! Are you always like this?" Out of nowhere, Perona showed up.

Immediately, Mihawk's grin disappeared and he glared at her over Zoro's shoulder.

"You must be Perona, who entered my home without permission."

His gaze was just as dismissive again as Zoro preferred it and on the other hand the faster breath betrayed Perona’s nervousness.

"Not my fault. There was no one around, the door wasn’t locked, and I was all alone."

The Shichibukai sighed.

"Well, but now I have returned home and since you have already exploited my hospitality enough, I ask you to leave, now."

"What? You throw me out?!" Blank fear echoed in her words. "But there are these monkeys outside, they’ll kill me!"

"And this would be my concern because…? Oh, wait it is not." The elder was as cold as ever.

"But…, but..."

"Let her stay."

Surprised, Mihawk stared down at Zoro.

“She might be annoying as hell, but she helped me after Kuma sent me here and she took care of my injuries.”

He pointed at his head.

For a moment, the elder looked at his bandage and then at the girl with the pink hair before lifting both hands defensively.

"For all I care. Fine, if that is your wish." He turned away. “But you are not my responsibility, girl. Your life is indifferent to me and I am not as lenient as Roronoa. So better not put my patience to the test."

Perona took a step back.

"Urgh, you're even worse than Zoro."

The Shichibukai ignored her and looked at Zoro again.

"Roronoa, I would like to unload the rest of my luggage first and then we need to talk."

Zoro nodded before turning to Perona.

"Hey Perona."

She quickly peeled her gaze from Mihawk and glanced at Zoro.

"You stay here and cook something edible."

"Don’t order me... okay."

She had dared to speak up against him, but Mihawk intimidated her wordlessly.

On the way through the forest, both swordsmen were calm.

"So, you don't intend to leave for the Sabaody Archipelago right away?" Zoro asked, undisturbed by unwanted listeners.

"Not today," the other agreed without meeting Zoro’s eyes. "There are more important things that we need to discuss. If you still want to leave after that, I am willing to set out by tomorrow."

Zoro nodded without replying. By now, he knew when a discussion was worth it and when it wasn't. So he walked on silently, aware of the eyes of the other glancing at him every now and then.

"What?" He muttered, tugging at his bandage. He did not like to be observed like that.

"Nothing. It is just a bit unusual.”

Now he looked at the other. Zoro had expected it to be different between them once he would get his true form back, but the other was still behaving as annoyingly as before. Zoro himself on the other hand could clearly feel the slight throbbing in his body.

"You knew I made it, didn't you?"

"Of course. The missing swords, the clothes, and why else should Bartholomew Kuma sent you away? It was obvious."

They passed through the shadows and Zoro could feel the presence of the monkeys, but none of them could be seen. Apparently, they feared the Shichibukai.

"And you're not hurt?" He muttered then, even quieter than before, and felt a silent blush creeping across his cheeks.

Mihawk laughed softly. "What an unfounded concern."

"Stop bragging. After all, it was a war and even you..."

"Roronoa?" The elder looked at him seriously. "Did you really worry about me?"

He quickly looked away and didn’t answer.

"Who has little confidence in whom now?" But Mihawk did not sound offended, smirking quietly and looking to the approaching shore. "But no, I am not hurt."

They had reached the ship and Zoro was amazed at how much stuff had been hidden in its tiny belly.

It took several minutes before they had gotten all of the luggage out and started carrying it back to the castle.

"It is clearly an advantage that you can now take on this form for things like this," Mihawk said with a wry grin, but Zoro remained silent. "Well, Roronoa, why won’t you tell me about your training for the last week. You were obviously not idle."

The way back was a little more leisurely and Zoro willingly told the elder about the last days. However, he limited the narration purely on his confrontation with the monkeys.

The other barely interrupted him and asked little, let him speak freely, rarely saying a word.

It was only when they went up the steps to the castle that Zoro finished his summary.

The other was silent.

Once inside, they placed the luggage in the entry hall.

"Tell this girl that we will retreat for now and that she should finish dinner by an hour. Preferably, I would welcome some tea until then."

Zoro looked at him with raised eyebrows but went to the kitchen nevertheless and told Perona.

She looked at him with big eyes and began to mutter that she was no servant, but after he proposed to her to discuss that with Hawk Eyes herself she backed off.

After that Zoro followed the Shichibukai into a huge room with a fireplace.

Mihawk settled on an expansive armchair that looked almost the same as the armchair in Sasaki and noted Zoro to take a seat as well.

"Certainly, you want to know the details of the war."

Zoro nodded.

"Well, there are some important things you should know. Does the name Portgas D. Ace tell you anything?"

Wary about what might come, he nodded again. "I know him, he's Luffy's big brother and he's one of the Whitebeard pirates."

He could see Mihawk looking at him for a moment in astonishment, hesitating for a tiny moment.

"Portgas D. Ace is dead and the Straw Hat was miserably overpowered on the battlefield."

“What?!”

"If you want, I will explain everything to you."

"Ace is… Ace is dead? That… that can’t be!"

He stood up and rushed for the door.

"Roronoa, what are you doing? Where are you heading?"

"To Luffy!"

He forgot to breathe.

"Sit down."

"No, I have to..."

"Roronoa!"

He turned around and looked at the by now as well standing Shichibukai, who rarely got as loud as he had just been.

"The war is over and what has happened has happened. You cannot change the past and headless action would only mean your captain would have to suffer another loss.”

Zoro stared at him.

"Sit down and find out what happened. After that, we can put together a strategy."

He swallowed heavily.

"Luffy was there, too?" He asked tonelessly.

The Shichibukai nodded.

"Did he survive?"

"He was gravely wounded, but he had strong allies. I expect him to survive. However, the Marines believe he was deathly defeated."

He was still staring at the elder, who sighed.

"Well, I will fetch some tea now, take the time to try to calm down a little bit."

With that, the elder turned to the door.

"Mihawk!" He shouted after him. "Fuck fetching tea! Fetch booze!"

The other looked over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows, but then nodded.

Minutes later the two sat opposite each other again, between them expensive liquor and the Shichibukai told him what had happened.

Their conversation lasted a long time and at some point Perona came in but didn't say a single word when she realized what they were talking about, but listened from the background.

Time was going by and the booze was quickly emptied. The throbbing in Zoro's chest got worse and worse and when there was nothing left to discuss he got up.

"So?" Mihawk asked calmly. "What are you going to do, Roronoa?"

For a moment, they looked at each other.

"Isn’t that obvious? Tomorrow we leave for the Sabaody Archipelago. I have to go to Luffy."

The elder nodded. "Very well. So be it. If that is your wish, I will not tell you how foolish this is."

"Too kind," he muttered, leaving the fireplace room.

As soon as he slammed the door close, he had to wipe the sweat from his forehead. His head was pounding, but just now his body was the bigger enemy. His view blurred.

He barely managed to escape to his room before giving in to the pain in his chest.

He slipped down the cool wood of the door and greeted the incoming exhaustion as the pain subsided. He had never lasted as long as he had today.

It was dark and cool in his room and he couldn't prevent his slender fingers from shaking.

"Luffy," he whispered, allowing tears to run down his face.


	15. Chapter 11 - Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo here we go!
> 
> I safely returned from my vaccation (it was great, but honestly quite exhaustingas well, and reality hit me like a train today... so much stuff to catch up on... but oh well, you're not here to her my whining ;-) I did have a lot of fun and enjoyed some free time with my niece) and as you guys might have noticed... today is not friday *badumptss*
> 
> From now on I will try my best to upload this fic twice a week, on monday and friday that is (thanks LucioL for the idea of posting at first day of the week and at the first day of the weekend^^). I hope you guys will enjoy it and if you have any other ideas, don't be shy ;-)
> 
> That's it from me for today. Have fun with this little chapter and I see you all on friday

Chapter 11 - Sleep

-Zoro-

For a moment, he observed his reflection.

Although he was still totally exhausted from the previous day, he didn’t look like it and that was a good thing; the last thing he wanted was that Mihawk thought he was weak.

The transformations were draining, but the other did not need to know that.

Taking a deep breath, he left the room, thinking about his crew and his captain, they were more important than some useless aching muscles.

On the way downstairs, he did not meet anyone. The kitchen was deserted as well. It was only in the room with the fireplace, where he had talked with the Shichibukai the night before, that he met him.

Mihawk sat at the big table, reading the newspaper and eating the forgotten dinner of the previous day.

"Good morning, Roronoa," he greeted him without even looking up. "Apparently your wounds heal very well in this form, quite a relief.”

"Morning," Zoro muttered, dropping on the chair next to the elder without replying anything to his comment.

"You should eat something so we can leave," Mihawk advised, continuing to read. "After all, you want to be with your beloved friends as soon as possible."

"Sure," he grumbled, reaching for a small piece of bread from the side of the other's plate hidden under the newspaper. The yellow eyes watched him, but there was no other reaction.

"You seem exhausted," the other said after a pause, "or do you only seem to be because you are still wearing the same dirty clothes you borrowed from me in Mary Joa?"

Zoro rolled his eyes and chewed on the dry bread. So much for that.

"You should definitely change before we leave. You certainly do not want to be seen like that.”

"Yeah, yeah, stop nagging. I thought we had agreed that you are not my fucking father."

Now the other looked at him again.

"Of course, if I were your father, you would not express yourself like that. No, you are hiding something from me, and I do not appreciate that."

"And why do you think so?" Zoro was so fed up with the other’s damn omniscience.

"You are worn out, despite a long night of sleep, and you went to bed quite early yesterday. Very untypical for you. Besides..." Mihawk began to read again. "This girl with the ghost powers made some interesting remarks about you."

Zoro did not ask how he knew about Perona’s devil powers.

"You talked to her last night?"

The elder nodded: "She asked about Gecko Moria, who according to the newspaper's reports died in battle. However, I have my doubts about this. After all, he was still alive when I left the battlefield, and the war was already over by then."

Zoro was still chewing on his bread. The Shichibukai had told him exactly what had happened on the battlefield.

"Where is she by the way? She wanted to come with us to the Sabaody Archipelago."

"She will not," Hawk Eyes replied coolly.

"What? Why?"

The elder looked at him again.

"The coffin boat is designed for one person; if you try to push yourself on this one, you will realize that you and I together are already more than one person. She will stay here."

For Zoro, that sounded like an excuse – especially because the other reacted that touchy and openly insulted him - but he didn’t really care.

"Does she know that? Won't be thrilled."

Mihawk shrugged.

“I told her yesterday. She was quick to understand."

"Yes, for sure," he replied sarcastically.

“However, I assured her that I will instruct one of the supply ships to take her to the Sabaody Archipelago.”

"Oh, really? Given that you don't care about her, you seem to be actually making an effort."

The elder folded his newspaper.

"I simply pay my debt."

"Oh?"

“She took care of you and I know from my own painful experience that this is truly not an easy task.”

"Oh, shut up."

A short time later, they set off. Perona hadn’t shown up by then, presumably she was sulking in her room or she was just too scared of the Shichibukai.

Zoro meanwhile wore clean clothes and also had his swords with him. The Shichibukai carried Josei and a small bag of Zoro's belongings in addition to his own sword. At least Zoro suspected that it was his stuff because he himself had not packed the bag.

"How long will we take? ", he muttered as they got closer to the sea.

"We should arrive by tomorrow morning. With the coffin boat we are much faster than with larger ships."

That meant they would need a whole day. Not good, that was way too long.

"When we arrive, I advise you to not walk around as Roronoa Zoro on the Sabaody Archipelago."

"What? Why?"

"Alas, Roronoa, are you acting this dull on purpose today? The world thinks of you as dead; the world thinks your captain is dead and your crew is defeated. If someone sees you there a few days after the battle, you lose the only thing that currently offers you and your friends protection."

The other one was absolutely right, but Zoro didn't like it at all. How could he look for hints of his crew, find out where the Sunny was, if he walked around as Loreen?

On the other side, of course, this offered him the perfect excuse to transform into Loreen again when he couldn't prevent it any longer.

Arriving at the sea, as always, he climbed directly on board while the elder loosened the hawser, but this time Zoro simply squatted on the ground and did not sit on the only seat as usual. It would have felt wrong for him, it had been one thing as Lady Loreen in her damn expensive dress that wasn’t supposed to wrinkle, but now it would have felt inappropriate.

When Mihawk came on board, he looked at Zoro for a moment with an illegible face, before placing his sword behind his throne and settling down.

"You are behaving quite differently than usual," the Shichibukai said after the small ship finally set off. His face was cool, but he pinched his lips a little tighter than usual.

Zoro looked out at the sea. "Maybe I behave like always and you're just having a problem with it because I'm no longer Loreen."

"Or you try - now that you are a man again - to keep some distance, even more than before."

They briefly looked at each other before Zoro broke the eye contact. He hated it when the other was so annoying.

"Say," he muttered, trying to focus on another topic, "why are you doing this here? Normally, you wouldn’t stop bickering that it would be far too reckless to travel to the Sabaody Archipelago now. Besides, I'm not strong enough, we agreed on a month of further training and now you don't even criticize my decision?"

Mihawk looked at him with his head slightly tilted to the side, his golden eyes stood out under the shadow of his hat and his slender lips were now curled into a slight grin.

But he did not answer, only shook his head slightly and turned his gaze away.

Zoro decided not to ask further, shrugging his shoulders and dropping on his back with his eyes closed, his arms folded behind his head. The other owed him no answer.

"I have always wondered why you follow the straw hat boy," the Shichibukai explained out of nowhere. "You are an impressive young man; you could easily gather followers if you wanted to. I even remember two boys calling you brother, back in the East Blue."

The elder laughed softly. "I saw a lot of me in you and wondered why someone like you, who is almost born to the leader, follows some non-serious rubber brat with a straw hat."

Zoro looked up again to the other, who had now crossed his legs.

"I watched him very closely on the battlefield and I think I understand you better now. I understand why you want to go to the Sabaody Archipelago. I certainly doubt it is wise, but I understand your reasons. Even if you are not the captain, we are very similar. I, as well, did not always make smart decisions and I, as well, was aware of that."

For one moment, Zoro took his time to understand what the other had just told him, but then he shook his head.

"You totally don’t get it," he said with a grin.

The other's face froze. "Excuse me?"

Then Zoro got serious. " You totally get me wrong. I'm not one to gather followers. I don't like that, I don’t need that, and I simply don't want to. I don't want to be a leader; you and I are completely different."

The elder was silent.

"But you're right. Luffy is my captain and I follow him, and yes," Zoro laughed softly, "he's some non-serious rubber brat. But he is also the man who one day will be pirate king."

Still Mihawk stayed silent. After a while, he smiled headshaking.

"You are right, Roronoa. I really do not understand anything at all about what you say. Your motives are, as always, a mystery to me."

Zoro closed his eyes again with satisfaction.

"Well, that’s a relief."

And then he fell asleep.

-Mihawk-

Out of the shadow of his hat, he watched the sleeping Roronoa Zoro.

Of course, he knew that Roronoa had been able to transform himself back into his true form. He had known at that moment when he had seen that the three swords had been missing. If Roronoa would not have been able to transform, he would have taken either only one of his swords or Josei.

However, Mihawk was actually surprised that the youngster, despite his hasty action, had been wise enough not to take Josei with him. Together with the third-generation Kitetsu, this sword would have been certain doom for every carrier.

The messy wardrobe trunk along with the ragged dress had then been nothing more than self-explanatory evidence.

Yet Mihawk had not been able to explain how and where to the Roronoa had disappeared. His face was world-famous, and if he had wandered through the corridors of the World Government, he would have been discovered and captured sooner or later.

In the end, it was almost a small miracle - an almost too perfect coincidence - that Roronoa had run into Kuma of all people. So unlikely that Mihawk had immediately dismissed it as a possibility. And the fact that the other Shichibukai had also kept quiet about this unexpected meeting had already been more than a small miracle.

This coincidence was almost as fateful as that Roronoa had landed on Kuraigana of all places, the one island Mihawk had chosen as his home. How likely was such a thing?

But all this had been secondary, because Roronoa had been safe, although far away, but in safety and in hindsight it might have been even better that Roronoa had not been able to watch the war from the front row.

It was surprising to Mihawk that the straw hats, no, the Straw Hat had been involved. Again, Crocodile, G-5, Enies Lobby, Moria, G-6, Sabaody Archipelago, every time the Straw Hat had been involved and now he had also broken into Impel Down, broke out again and had participated in the events of recent history.

No, it was better that Roronoa had not been there, had not seen his friend and captain being thrown back and forth like a game ball between the powerful. It was better that Roronoa had not helplessly seen how his friend and captain had been destroyed for a second time.

Nevertheless, Mihawk had to admit that it had been amazing to see this child on the battlefield. This boy, who was clearly inferior and was still able to successfully free his brother, even if Portgas had still fallen in the end. This boy, who made friends out of enemies and who had even managed to make Mihawk act irrational for a moment, to give fate a chance; this boy was truly extraordinary and certainly very dangerous.

But if that was not the reason Roronoa followed this boy, then why? 

No, it did not really matter.

The war was over, Whitebeard, Portgas D. Ace, and so many others were dead and now things would take their course. For the first time in years something halfway interesting would happen.

Mihawk had needed a reason to leave the battlefield quickly, had felt this inner urge to hurry. He had not been able to explain it to himself, had this subliminal feeling not noticed at first, let alone understood, and even now it still confused him.

For that the appearance of the red Shanks had been an almost perfect opportunity, which Mihawk had used directly to take his leave.

He had wondered how to explain to his little frog what had happened, without Roronoa rushing off again, had concluded that he could not prevent it one way or another. By no word in the world he could have prevented Roronoa from leaving for the Sabaody Archipelago. Of course, he would have the strength and ability to restrain Roronoa on Kuraigana, but that was no solution he favored.

So, he had decided to tell the youngster the unadorned truth, not leaving out any information, no matter how small, so that the younger one could decide based on the truth.

It had been a good plan, an appropriate plan.

But when he had arrived, Mihawk had forgotten this plan. Early on, he had noticed that the Humandrills, which normally watched him out of the shadows of the forest, had not been there. This had worried him, after all, their unfamiliar absence had to have a reason. Otherwise, they never missed his arrival, the arrival of the undisputed ruler of the island.

Therefor he had gone to the ruins, deep into the forest, past the tombstone, to their miserable camp. On his way he had noticed a lot of blood, many fresh traces of fighting and he had expected the worse.

The primates had only confirmed his fears. They had all been wounded and injured. Almost like humans, they had converted their tents into sick bays, and they had all worn dirty bandages. In their eyes had been sheer fear when they had seen him, but even he had noted this unwanted feeling of fear rising within him again.

This fear that Roronoa was no longer well.

That the youngster had fought against the Humandrill had been the only reasonable explanation. It was fitting that, despite Mihawk’s warning, or precisely because of this, he would challenge the primates, all the more likely after regaining his original body.

But if that had been the case, the scenario had only offered two outcomes, either Mihawk had underestimated Roronoa once again - but he did have his well-founded doubts concerning that - or Roronoa had overestimated himself once again.

He had feared something terrible had happened. It had taken him only seconds to realize that Roronoa had at least been no longer close to the primates, so he had rushed to the castle, unsure what would await him.

But although his mind had constantly told him that the probability that Roronoa would have been actually seriously injured or even dead had been extremely low, he could not bear it again, could not withstand this anxiety again.

Mihawk did not know what exactly had overwhelmed him when he had seen Roronoa, but that incredible sense of relief had filled him.

Yet by now he was sure that his relationship with the boy influenced him more than he had ever thought was possible. It was no longer just that he wanted to protect this boy and that he wanted the boy to become an even better swordsman than he could ever be.

It was selfish, more engaging, more oppressive than anything he knew. It clearly reminded him of his feelings for his sister and was yet different.

He looked sighing at the sleeping pirate.

They both wanted to avoid such feelings. No, the younger one had wanted to avoid it, the younger one had been careful. He, on the other hand, had been so convinced of himself and his control that he had not even thought it would be possible that the younger one could one day become his weakness.

As it turned out, Mihawk had been the one who had overestimated himself and had not been careful enough, so he was now the one who could not sleep.

Hours passed and he could not do much more than observe the sea. The boy at his feet slept blissfully, and his own body also demanded to rest, but his thoughts did not allow him to calm down.

But for once, they were not only concerned with the green-haired devil to his feet, but also with what the world was about to face. It would be fairly interesting; Whitebeard had left a big gaping hole, and this Teach had certainly not stepped on the world stage for the last time.

After a while Mihawk dozed off, but not for long.

The sun had already come quite close to the horizon when he awoke. Roronoa was still asleep at his feet, but now he muttered something wordlessly, holding his chest with one hand, furrowing his brow deeply.

He seemed to be dreaming. Right now, he looked much older than twenty. Oh God, was he just twenty? Sometimes Mihawks forgot how many years separated them, sometimes he forgot how briefly they knew each other.

Except for this one nightmare a few weeks ago, he had never seen the other sleep restlessly, on the contrary, the other usually slept like a dead man, did not move, did not snore, breathing rather calmly. Well, it was the first time he saw the other sleeping in his male form, but that hardly changed anything for him. Whether Zoro or Loreen, both were Roronoa for him.

Yes, it was true, Roronoa Zoro and Lady Loreen had little in common. With the exception of their hair and eye color, they looked fundamentally different and their charisma could not be more contrasting.

Loreen seemed fragile, almost weak and sweet to the ignorant, but to him she had always seemed impetuously and knowingly.

Zoro, on the other hand, seemed evil and cold to strangers, while Mihawk saw a self-confident, almost thoughtful, young man.

Loreen was like an unpredictable volcano, while Zoro was an unconquerable ice storm.

But as soon as he looked into those eyes, he knew that they were both the same person, together they made Roronoa. For Mihawk, it was irrelevant in which body the other was, just as long as the other looked at him like he always did.

Now, however, the dreams seemed to become more restless and the younger one almost looked like he was in pain.

Why was it of such importance for Roronoa to keep the truth hidden? Did he actually think Mihawk had not noticed it by now?

“Roronoa!”

The pinched eyes jumped open. The other quickly sat up, his left hand on the sword handle.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

With big eyes and open mouth, the other looked around, apparently having to figure out where he was. Then he looked at Mihawk without saying anything, the right hand still against his chest.

"How long can you keep enduring it?"

"What?" The short green hairs stood wildly in all directions, the deep eyes were wide open and now the other seemed the same again as always. Like a boy.

"How long can you resist the urge to transform into Loreen?"

Roronoa wanted to say something but stopped and looked away.

"Since when do you know?"

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders. "Since you wanted to hide it."

For several seconds there was silence between them, then Roronoa looked at him again.

"I think until just after sunset if I concentrate."

He nodded thoughtfully. "That would not be as long as it was yesterday."

"Wrong, it would be even longer. I didn't transform into this body here until much later yesterday."

That surprised Mihawk. 

"So, you can actually train it?"

The younger grinned. "Of course."

He nodded again.

"Well, you should go below deck until we arrive."

"What? Why?"

Mihawk got up and pushed his chair backwards to expose the trapdoor.

"You seem exhausted, you sleep a lot, much more than usual. These transformations cost strength and drain you. In addition, you need to focus to control it. Go under deck and rest. Sleep and gain new strength. I will keep watch out here and wake you up tomorrow morning as soon as we arrive."

The other got up and saw down at the hole. The boy briefly looked at him, with his mouth open, as if he wanted to say something.

"Yes, what is it?"

The younger man quickly shook his head.

"No, I was probably wrong."

The other climbed down the ladder.

What was he wrong about?

"Wow, it's really great inside! You have everything you need."

Smiling, he shook his head.

"Of course, what did you..."

"There's even a bathroom here and even a bathtub. What the..."

"Good night, Roronoa!"

He pulled the chair forward again and sat down.

Under him it was quiet.

Maybe he would be able to catch a few restful hours of sleep now.


	16. Chapter 12 - Rip-off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again^^
> 
> We're slowly getting into action. It took a long time, but slowly everything is falling into place ;-)
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, thank you all for bearing with me, and see you next monday ^^

Chapter 12 - Rip-off

-Mihawk-

"Are you ready?" He called down the hatch and yawned extensively.

"Do I really have to wear this?" The youngster answered whining.

"Roronoa, we talked about that yesterday."

"Yes, we talked about me going ashore in this body but..."

"There is a great chance of encountering journalists at the Sabaody Archipelago. Not even mentioning members of the upper class who have been evacuated because of the war. It would be unfavorable if Lady Loreen were not to be seen in her usual wardrobe."

“But I thought you'd told people I was sick. Isn’t it much weirder me being there at all than what kind of stuff I wear?"

Mihawk could hear the rustling of fabric.

"That was over a week ago, a lot can happen in the meantime. It would also suit Lady Loreen to show herself as if nothing had happened to overplay her illness. This will fuel the rumors without us even having to say a word about it."

"So that would suit me?" The other murmured, sounding slightly insulted from the depths of the ship.

"I said it would be a typical pattern of behavior for Lady Loreen. I was not talking about you at all, just the character you embody."

The younger one laughed dryly and climbed up the ladder.

"Is that what you do with Hawk Eyes? _Embody the character?"_

Roronoa wore a simple black dress with delicate lace as an ornament. He turned his back towards Mihawk to let him close the zipper, which he did, even though it got quite warm around the tip of his nose.

"Of course. You must have noticed by now that me and Hawk Eyes have relatively little in common. I act the way that is expected of me to have my peace of mind in private life. It would be desirable if you tried to do the same."

The other snorted quietly but did not respond while putting on a light summer coat and grabbed the little black sun hat Mihawk offered him.

Mihawk on the other hand shouldered his sword and Josei as well.

"We should leave now."

They had docked at one of the far-off Groves, away from all the hustle and bustle of the shopping malls and tourists.

The younger one sighed and looked over to him for a moment before pulling his hat deep into his face, but his gaze had not been for Mihawk, but for Josei behind his back.

"What is it, Roronoa?"

Again, the other sighed before finally going past Mihawk ashore.

For a moment, Mihawk looked after the other. He had not been aware of how much it seemed to bother Roronoa not to be able to carry his sword himself. It was something Mihawk could understand fairly well. After all, he always carried Yoru with him, even if for practical reasons. A true swordsman had a very special bond with his swords, and it spoke for Roronoa that he suffered from not being able to have them with him.

"Roronoa." He followed the other and wanted to explain why this action was necessary. But the other just waved it off.

"Yes, I know, I know, I'm not stupid. It's safer and it doesn't suit the _honourable Lady Loreen_ to walk around with a sword. I got it."

“Roronoa.”

The mood of the other seemed to have reached a new low, although Mihawk had not expected that to be possible.

"Where the hell are we?" Roronoa asked grumpily; eye-rolling Mihawk accepted that they would not discuss this topic in more detail, for now.

"Grove 53, location of nothing but the shipyards and because they have been closed since the war, there is hardly any bustle here at the moment."

After all, at least Mihawk did not act thoughtlessly, unlike somebody else. Of course, they could have docked at the Marine base or at one of the other Groves, but there were astonishingly less people here and it was close to Grove 13, which was their goal.

"And where are we going now? Do you know where the Sunny is?"

He looked at the other from the side, who looked firm ahead, the brim of his hat bouncing at every step.

"I do have an idea, but first of all I want to visit Shakuyak and she should be at her bar."

"And why that? Her bar is in the lawless district, isn't it?"

"Indeed. For two very simple reasons. Firstly, Kanan called me this morning to tell me that Shakuyak invited you to visit her when we are already on the way and secondly, Shakuyak always knows what happens at the Archipelago. Maybe she even heard about your crew."

"Hmm", the other only agreed. After a while, he whispered, "you said she invited me? Specifically, me? Not you?”

Now Mihawk had to suppress a laugh. "Oh no. If you have not noticed it yet, Shakuyak and I share a mutual bond of aversion. Presumably, she would not even let me in if I were not accompanying you.”

The other laughed quietly.

The few people, who were on the road, looked at them with big eyes, but no one stood in their way.

"Were there actually any articles about Lady Loreen in the newspaper?" The younger murmured. "Or was the war for once important enough for them to forget about that garbage."

The Shichibukai continued to grin: "I think I advised you to read the newspaper by yourself?"

"You think Perona would let me? She always cuts out thousands of articles and uses the rest to light the fireplace."

Slowly they moved forward.

"So, you want to tell me that you have not read newspapers even once during the last week?"

"Only the one you brought with you yesterday."

He sighed. "My dear."

“Don’t _my dear_ me. Was there anything or not?"

They had almost reached the bridge to Grove 10.

"Two days after your disappearance, there was a speculative article about somebody witnessing Lady Loreen leaving Mary Joa in a hospital bed, and the day before the war there was a big story about your visit to Mary Joa, which of course was perfectly suited to your dramatic departure. If I remember correctly you were the topic of at least four pages. That was about it concerning the newspaper itself, but some gossip rags blew up Lady Loreen leaving Hawk Eyes behind. According to Jiroushin it was rather entertaining to read."

The younger one shivered slightly. "I don't even want to know what they wrote."

"The outlaw sector begins over there. I would appreciate you staying close to me," Mihawk changed the topic coldly.

"What? Do you think I can't keep up with some petty crooks?"

"I think it would be wisely not to show the world how capable you are in this form. The surprise effect could prove being useful to you at some point."

The other replied nothing and remained close to him. Not that they met anybody.

"There are even less people here than I expected," said the other, "where is everybody?"

"You forget who walks next to you, my friend. I am known for killing people cause- and merciless. None of these criminals want to be noticed by me."

"Stop acting like that’s something special."

"Oh, I forgot who I was talking to..."

"What's that supposed to mean again?"

As they kept mocking each other, they went on.

-Zoro-

"Over there you can see Shakuyak’s bar," the Shichibukai explained as they crossed another bridge. Zoro could read _13_ on a tree trunk nearby.

Thoughtfully, he looked around, saw the rising bubbles and the strange vehicles. This island seemed to be full of wonders and adventure was in the air, he could almost hear the loud singing voice of his captain. Luffy had certainly liked it here.

Gradually they came closer to a small building whit the sign _Bottakuri Bar._

"Rip-off," he muttered.

"Yes, that fits Kanan's sister very well," smiled Hawk Eyes by his side. "Shall we get in?"

This question did not expect an answer. Zoro just hoped that Shakky really had some useful information for him.

When the other opened the door, they could here an older man talking: "Well, I'm on my way then. See you soon."

Zoro could not tell who the voice belonged to, because apart from the slender black-haired woman, whom Zoro had already met on Sasaki, the small bar was empty.

Shakky just cleaned the counter but looked up and glanced directly at Zoro.

"Maybe you should wait a moment," she said with a grin, "we have visitors."

"Visitors? And who?" The man in the back room sounded surprised.

"Friends of the Straw Hat," Shakky replied, smiling openly at him.

_She knows!_

Mihawk's voice echoed through his head.

"Really?" The man asked again, appearing in the door frame behind Shakky. He was slightly taller than Zoro in his true body and had shoulder-length white hair and a white beard. A scar marked his right eye and he was wearing glasses.

Zoro knew instantly that this man was dangerous.

"The Dark King," Mihawk said beside him, almost stress-free. "What a coincidence to meet you here."

The old man looked at the Shichibukai with a brief smile: "Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk, haven’t seen you in a long time. You've become quite a man."

"And you have grown old," Mihawk replied coolly.

"Oh yes," laughed the old man apologetically, "time doesn't stop for any of us."

Then the Dark King looked at Zoro, tilted his head for a moment, before rushing towards him and bowing deeply, taking his hand like an offer for a dance. "Silvers Rayleigh my name. Enchanté, my dear."

Zoro looked down at this man with an uncomfortable feeling, after all he knew who the other was and he really didn’t like people bowing for him.

"Rayleigh, I think you're unsettling our visitor," Shakky said with a smile.

The addressee raised his head in wonder. "Of course, I'm sorry, but with such a pretty lady I just had to react immediately. Loreen was the name, wasn't it, my dear?"

"Not quite," Shakky replied before Zoro even got a word out.

_She knows!_

Confused, the old former pirate looked over to the barwoman and took a step back.

"What do you mean with that?" Rayleigh asked, but Shakky just shrugged her shoulders.

Then the elder looked back to Zoro and Mihawk.

"Why did you want me to stay, Shakuyak?" The old man asked again, without turning his gaze away from Zoro.

"Because you owe him some answers," came her mystical response.

_She knows!_

"Him? Hawk Eyes, I didn't know you had any questions for me. I'm sorry, I'll answer them immediately."

"Not me," replied the Shichibukai.

Zoro quickly stared up to Mihawk. Why did he do that?

"You can tell him the truth," Mihawk said calmly and met his gaze, "he will not betray you, and besides, Shakuyak already knows."

"Of course." She laughed. "I immediately got suspicious when I heard that our little Mihawk had met a girl, who was actually willing to spend time with him. Isn’t there this saying that it takes a monster to kill another monster. I think to tame a swordfighter you need another swordfighter."

"Excuse me?" Silvers Rayleigh was obviously confused. "What do you guys mean? Aren't you Lady Loreen from the newspaper?"

Zoro nodded.

"Oh, he is," Shakky agreed, "but he's also one of the straw hats."

“What?”

"Yes," Zoro said before one of the others could preempt him again, "actually I am Roronoa Zoro." He took off his hat.

Now the other looked at him with big eyes.

"The missing crewmember," he muttered softly, "you want to be the straggler Roronoa Zoro?"

Zoro nodded. He should have changed into his real form, regardless what Mihawk had advised, things would have been easier.

"But... But... Oh, now I understand. You belong to these – oh, what they were called? Yes - I’ve met someone like you before. Of course, that's the only way this makes sense."

"We are not here to talk about Roronoa's story," Mihawk coolly interrupted, "but because we want to know exactly what happened to the straw hats. And as I can tell from your words, they were here."

Zoro looked up to the other. How did Mihawk always manage to look so bored even now?

Swiftly the Dark King looked up to Mihawk, but then he observed Zoro again with these curious eyes.

"Well, tell me about it, Mihawk. In fact, I just wanted to make my way to Luffy."

"Really?" Zoro asked. "You know where he is?"

"He's on the women's island, with Boa Hancock," the old man replied.

"Amazon Lily, as expected," Mihawk added as if he had known that all along.

"And why do you want to visit him?" Zoro asked suspiciously.

"Well, it's a little more complicated," Rayleigh replied. "Maybe we should sit down, and I'll explain everything from the beginning."

Moments later, Zoro sat on one of the bar stools, next to him the Dark King, behind his back stood Mihawk, who had refused to sit down.

On the other side of the counter stood Shakky and prepared them some drinks.

Then Rayleigh started telling what had happened. He recounted how the straw hats had helped a friend of him named Okta. That name seemed dangerously familiar to Zoro and his presumption was confirmed throughout the story. Rayleigh talked about the fishman Okta, the mermaid Camy, and her teacher Pappag.

He talked about a kidnapping and the human auction, where he had also met Zoro's friends. He talked about the World Aristocrats. Mihawk intervened briefly and pointed out to Zoro that one of these World Nobles had also been at the Marine ball and had wanted to dance the last dance with Zoro to claim him.

The old man told him about the conversation he had with the straw hats, also mentioning how his crew had talked about Zoro and how curious they had made the Dark King. Eventually, Rayleigh told him that he had planned to coat the Thousand Sunny for the pirates and how they had been attacked.

Zoro listened closely, it all fit perfectly with his chaotic friends.

"So, they wanted to meet you again after three days?" Mihawk asked when the older man had finished his story.

Rayleigh nodded.

"That means they will all try to get here now," Zoro muttered, "at least after hearing from Luffy and Ace. They're going to come here, just like me.”

For a moment, everyone present was silent.

"Why did you want to visit Luffy?" Zoro asked Rayleigh, who stared at him for an eternity.

"Exactly, reborn. You're one of those reborns, aren't you? That's why you're alive and in this body."

Zoro wasn't just slightly surprised.

"How do you know that?"

"Actually, you're not the first for me to meet."

The old man seemed to ponder for a moment.

"Tell me Zoro - I can call you Zoro, can I? Now that I know who you are, Loreen seems so impersonal to me - how do you evaluate your strength? Can you transform already? Because if I'm honest, like, the way you're sitting here in front of me right now, it's very reassuring to know that Mihawk watches you with eagle eyes all the time."

"Hawk eyes," Shakky muttered on the other side of her counter, giggling into her glass.

"I can transform," Zoro replied, ignoring the barwoman, "and of course I'm much weaker in this form than usual." He sipped on his drink.

The other nodded.

"Mihawk, you're a capable fighter and I trust your judgement, what’s your opinion concerning Zoro?"

Zoro felt the man behind him fold his arms.

“He is indeed talented, but he is unable to use Haki yet. If he and his crew embark into the New World this very week, I expect him to die within the next month."

Zoro swirled around to the other, who wasn’t even looking at him but met Rayleigh’s gaze. Mihawk had never told him that. If he actually thought that, why would he…

"What?! Why...?!" He began, but Rayleigh interrupted him: "Oh, you think he's so weak?"

"No, on the contrary. But the truth is that he is one of the strongest of his crew. If anything, the Straw Hat is stronger, and since Roronoa's dictum is that the captain must survive at any cost, Roronoa himself will be the first to die in order to protect his friends."

"Like at the G-6," Rayleigh muttered.

"Like at the G-6," Mihawk confirmed.

"Could you guys stop talking about me as if I weren't here and weren’t able to make my own decisions?!" Zoro growled angrily. Both men looked at him. “You may not understand, but if Luffy says we're going, I'll follow him."

"Stubborn as always," the Shichibukai murmured behind him.

"And if Luffy decided to reunite the crew not that soon but just after a while. What would you do then?" Rayleigh looked at him directly.

Confused, Zoro leaned back a bit.

"Well, if Luffy really would do that - which would be very unusual for him – then I would use this time to get stronger, strong enough and even stronger, and then I would wait for him here."

"What are you scheming, Rayleigh?" The Shichibukai behind Zoro sounded as cold as ever.

"I have a plan. That's why I wanted to go to Luffy to talk to him about it."

"What kind of plan?" the Shichibukai demanded.

“I want to train him, and I want him to take his time to get stronger. Because I see it in a similar way you do, Mihawk. It would be a shame to lose such a promising crew so early on."

"How much time?" Zoro muttered directly.

"Two years."

He froze.

"And how are the other crew members supposed to know about this?" Mihawk behind Zoro asked.

And then the former pirate spoke again. He spoke of Bartholomew's Kuma, of revolutionaries, of Amazon Lily, of Boa Hancock. He spoke of another attack on Marine Ford and of a two-year period used for training.

"You saw it, didn’t you, Mihawk, on the battlefield. He’s capable of using Haoshuko Haki, of course he has to learn to control it, as well as the other Haki types. I think he'll learn it quickly.”

Mihawk behind Zoro replied, but Zoro did not listen. For a while, the two men kept talking.

"What do you think, Zoro? Will he agree to it?"

Slowly he looked up and met the old man's gaze.

He had been with Luffy for almost half a year and now this man wanted to separate them for two years.

For two whole years?

_Six months._

Zoro himself had already realized that he indeed needed time to get stronger, but he would have never allowed himself to waste more than half a year.

_I never want to be in the position of not being able to protect my captain again and for that I have to get stronger._

But if he was quite honest, he had known for a long time as well that six months could not be enough.

It was only thanks to the mercy of Bartholomew Kuma that he had been allowed to sacrifice himself for Luffy in order to save him at Thriller Bark. Zoro had been dependent on his enemy’s mercy.

During the fight against the G-6 Marines, he had not been able to save Luffy from serious injuries, they had only survived due to the enemy’s mistakes. Afterwards Zoro had let his captain down, had left him alone, had left him behind to protect himself, had left him behind to be defeated.

But he knew, even if he had been there, even if the G-6 had never happened, even if Zoro had been with his crew at the Sabaody Archipelago, he couldn't have prevented anything, would he?

No, he couldn't have prevented the crew from being crushed.

"Yes," he whispered hesitantly, "if you explain it to him in exactly the same words, he will do it and otherwise tell him..." He hesitated. "Tell him I'm going to wait for him. I want him to be the King of Pirates and to be able to support him I have to become even stronger."

The old man nodded and got up.

"Well, then I'll set off now."

He went to the door.

"Rayleigh," Zoro muttered, "don't tell him what I just said."

Now the other looked at him.

“It won't be necessary. You won’t need a message from me to convince him."

The old man nodded, picking up a duffle bag and walked out.

“Roronoa?”

He looked up to the Shichibukai, who met his gaze without showing any emotion.

"Okay," Zoro nodded, "let's go back. After all, I have to learn how to use Haki."

"What? Where does this change of heart come from?"

Zoro stood up.

"Well, if a fool like Luffy can learn it, then I’ll waltz right through it, right?"

Mihawk laughed out loud.

"Well fine, let us get back to practice."

"One moment, Mihawk."

Shakky was still standing behind the counter and offered a piece of paper to the Shichibukai. She grinned badly.

"Here's the bill, you don't want to drink and dash, right _your Lordship?_ "


	17. Chapter 13 - Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I hope you're having a great start into the new week! So glad we finally made it here, from now on things will get a little bit more exciting and I hope you will like this new chapter as well.
> 
> Thank you for all you kind words and for keeping up with me and this little fic ;-)
> 
> See you friday^^

Chapter 13 - Trust

-Mihawk-

So, here they were again. Back to the beginning, again.

Once again Roronoa had decided to stay with him and once again it made him happier than he would ever admit.

He sighed and covered his eyes with his forearm; what had this boy done to him?

_You should go under deck._

Since when did he do what this cheeky youngster told him? Since when did he do what anybody told him?

_You look awful. And old! When was the last time you got a wink of sleep?_

How could he have changed that much within a month?

_Go, take a nap. I stay up here and watch out; if something happens, I call you._

They had barely left the Sabaody Archipelago, when Roronoa had ordered him to catch some sleep, as if Roronoa were the one out of the two of them, who always had to take care of everything and who had to constantly worry about the other.

Mihawk's objections had, in fact, reached nothing. Roronoa was simply too stubborn.

_You’re saying you don't trust me?_

Well, when had he started trusting Roronoa?

Now he lay on his expansive, comfortable bed and actually tried to sleep. But how should he come to rest after all the last few hours?

Roronoa would stay with him for two years from now on, not a few weeks, not a few months, two whole years.

Mihawk would see him fight; he would see how much stronger Roronoa could become.

In two years, he was able to transform a gifted, promising talent into an extraordinary master of the sword. In two years, he was able to make a man out of this boy. The next two years promised to be an interesting time.

But they also promised to be a challenge. Over the next two years, the youngster would continue to put his patience to the test. Over the next two years, the youngster would constantly put his control to the test.

Mihawk sighed. Within a month, his little frog had changed him so much, who knew what could happen in two years?

Slowly, he turned to the side.

He could not change anything of that right now and pondering about what had not even happened yet would not help him either. A few hours of sleep, on the other hand, could prove to be useful.

He should sleep, as soon as they would arrive at Kuraigana, he would train the other.

He was supposed to sleep, because afterwards he had to be a Hawk Eyes again, Shichibukai and a teacher.

Those two years promised to be the best and the worst.

He woke up.

Something was different than before. Through the little bull's-eye to his right faint rays of sun still enlightened his room, so it was still day, but what was different?

But then he knew, he was no longer alone.

Mihawk continued to breathe calmly, pretending to be still asleep. Someone was watching him.

Exhaling, he relaxed.

"Roronoa," he muttered, looking at the foot of the bed.

There the youngster sat in his male form and looked at him seriously. The daylight was reflected in his eyes and he seemed more distant than ever. It seemed as if the other had watched him sleep.

"What are you doing down here? I thought you wanted to guard the ship?" He asked calmly, as thousands of questions stormed his mind, and sat up.

Roronoa did not answer.

He wore the same simple white shirt in which Mihawk had found him in the clearing more than a month ago, but now it fit him as if made for him, but the black trousers seemed too big, as if they actually belonged to Mihawk.

"Has something happened?" He asked, trying to get the other to speak up.

Still, Roronoa looked at him with this strange gaze, as if he had to overcome himself to do something.

"What is wrong, Roronoa?" Slowly, Mihawk became impatient.

"Why do you trust me?" The other's words sounded hollow, while the youngster continued to look at him. "I could be your enemy. Why do you trust me so much that you sleep in my presence?"

That question surprised him.

"But Roronoa, I have already lived with you under the same roof for a whole month. Besides, were you not the one, who took a nap the deck this morning? Does that not mean you trust me as well and am not I posing a much greater danger to you than you do to me?"

Now the other looked away.

"Is this why you are here? Because you do not trust me?" Mihawk asked further. 

Roronoa stared at him again, whatever he had struggled with, it seemed as if he had made up his mind.

"You wouldn't do anything to me. You don't pose any danger to me," Roronoa said.

"Oh, are you playing the _Kanan would not approve it_ card again?"

Why did the other look so distressed? Usually when he was baiting Mihawk like that he would show a crooked grin, right now he looked like he was about to betray his own moral. 

"This has nothing to do with Kanan. You just can't do it.”

"And why do you think so?" He did not like what was going on here. Although the sun was shining through the window, it was dark and although he was the clear winner, he felt almost threatened. As if Roronoa with Josei on his belt could actually pose a danger to him.

"Because of your feelings."

"What?" He forgot to breathe.

Roronoa stood up. "You can't do anything to me because you love me, in your own twisted, weird way. Don't think I wouldn't notice your shameless glances."

What in heaven’s name was the other talking about? Was this some kind of childish prank? A joke Mihawk couldn’t comprehend?

The other came around the big bed and stopped in front of him.

He laughed dryly. "Roronoa, please. What is this nonsense? Did Shakuyak put anything in your drink? What are you talking about? Such presumptions are..."

The youngster folded his arms. “Drop the act. I can read you. Otherwise, there would be no reason for you to teach me at all."

Appeasing, Mihawk raised both hands. Perhaps the other had actually been given drugs, he saw no other reason for Roronoa to behave this oddly, to say such bizarre things.

"Roronoa, we both know that I really appreciate the relationship between us, but just because you are important to me does not mean that I have romantic feelings towards you. It may be hard for a child like you to believe, but not every form of affection must be because of physical attraction or roman..."

"Shut up!"

Roronoa bent forwards, his earrings sparkling in the sunlight and a crooked grin had crept onto his lips – the grin Mihawk knew so well - but still his eyes seemed so sad, so empty, so unfamiliar.

"Roronoa, what in..."

The younger man bent over him, grabbed his hair with one hand and his chin with the other, his eyes staring at Mihawk like a man on a mission. The very next moment Mihawk felt the rough lips of the other against his own, but they were gentler than expected, almost hesitant.

He wanted to back off, what he could effortlessly do, but something made him stop. Mihawk tried to understand, he tried to understand why the younger did this. This was something Mihawk had not been expecting, he had never expected Roronoa to do something like this, so why was he doing it? What was his reasoning?

Almost melancholy, these green eyes looked at him as if Roronoa was mourning. Was this an escape from reality? Why would he do that?

This was wrong, but still these eyes regarded him so miserably, almost pleading, as if they wanted to ask him for something, as if Roronoa wanted to beg him to do something.

Mihawk closed his eyes, he could no longer withstand Roronoa’s... 

An unknown pain pierced his heart. He gasped for air and the other's lips were gone.

"Sorry." Roronoa's voice sounded colder than ever.

Mihawk slumped forward and held his chest, hot liquid pouring out between his hands, soaking his shirt, dripping down on his lap and the bed.

"But that was the only way."

He stared up at the other. Roronoa's mouth trembled, but otherwise he seemed calm and cold. Still, Mihawk knew that he wasn’t, he could read the other to easily right now.

"I knew this was the only way I could distract you to get close enough to you."

Josei's blade in Roronoa's hand shimmered in dark red, covered with Mihawk’s blood.

"But why Roronoa?" Mihawk asked, coughing, tasting blood. He had taught Roronoa the way of lightning-fast, ice-cold killing. Roronoa had pierced his heart, had slit it apart, had ripped open the important veins with a single cut, and now the red elixir of life flowed unhindered out of his body.

If he did not stop the bleeding immediately, he would bleed to death within a few seconds, not even minutes. But even if he could stop it, this wound was so precise, so perfectly executed that he would not last until the next island. Mihawk would die.

"That's not how I imagined it," Zoro muttered, "I wanted to defeat you fair and honest, not by ambush. But I have no choice."

"So, you were... forced?"

He was already feeling dizzy.

Roronoa nodded. "You were right. As long as Eizen has the right bargaining chips, everyone has to play his game."

"He has... your crew?"

"If I kill you, he will release them."

Mihawk swallowed and looked at the other.

"Why didn't you notice?" Roronoa whispered. "Why did you trust me that easily?"

He smiled weakly. This was the end of it. It was certainly not as he had imagined, but at least it had been Roronoa, at least, his death had a purpose in saving Roronoa's friends.

"Because it needs a... monster to kill another... one."

At least he was no longer a prisoner in the political game of power and wealth. No, it was not the worst death he could have imagined.

"And why didn't you kill me?!" Roronoa's voice broke and a single tear ran down his hard face. "Why wasn't it you who freed me from those chains?!"

And that was the moment Mihawk understood. His death was nothing more than a move in a game, he was nothing more than a castle taken from the chessboard and now Roronoa was the pawn in his place. Now Roronoa was the one deprived of his freedom.

Mihawk had never wanted to tame his little frog and now Roronoa would be locked up, nothing more than one of Eizen's objects of virtu, just because Mihawk had not been able to guard him better.

"I didn't want any of this here," Roronoa whispered, "I just wanted to be the best swordsman in the world."

Mihawk collapsed.

"I told you that you can't trust me. But you didn't want to listen."

He opened his eyes, brushing over his unharmed chest.

It had been a nightmare.

His heart beat quickly, but his thoughts gathered faster.

Such dreams were certainly not pleasant, but they happened, even if it shocked him how realistic this one had been. For a second Mihawk had actually felt the pain, had almost heard Roronoa's words, had really felt his lips.

The blood that just had covered his body and the bed was missing; was still where it belonged.

It was dark, the sun had already set long ago, it was night.

Sighing, he buried his face under his arms for a moment. Dreams were no stranger to him, of course, but he had not had any nightmares for years. The world could not scare him with anything, but now it was probably different.

He got up and strolled over into the small, adjacent bathroom. But the stale water did not help much, so he observed his reflection for a moment.

He had to figure out the reasons behind the fears from this dream and confront them. He was no one to be impressed by such things. His subconscious wanted to tell him that he disliked if he could not control everything and that there was apparently something out of reach for him to control. This dream was a warning.

Obviously, part of this fear was about Roronoa, even an amateur could see that. Of course, he worried about the boy, and of course he knew that Roronoa was the one person, who would not allow himself to be controlled by anybody, be it Mihawk or whoever; nothing surprising at all.

The other thing was probably his constant distrust in Eizen. After the recent events Roronoa would stay with Mihawk for two years, two years, giving Eizen enough time to force Roronoa under his control.

But what...?

_But I don't know if you can trust me._

That was what Roronoa had told him. Roronoa was afraid of his inner strength, of using Haki. In the end, these words meant that Roronoa was afraid that he would accidently hurt Mihawk.

Ridiculous!

Even if he had significantly underestimated Roronoa in his male form, the other was still far from posing any danger to him.

So why? So why would he say something like that?

But more importantly, why did Mihawk dream of such a thing?

Did he really not trust Roronoa in the end?

Nonsense! Of course, he did!

But... but maybe he was actually scared?

Mihawk resolutely straightened his collar and climbed upwards.

-Zoro-

The first stars appeared in the night sky.

The sun had just set, and the horizon still painted the sea in a fiery orange.

Zoro lay on deck and watched the sky. Now, that the sun had disappeared, it quickly became colder, but he enjoyed the coldness, well aware that he would soon freeze in this body.

He had spent the whole day brooding. After sending Mihawk to bed – that idiot had indeed looked awful - he had no choice but to keep watch. Which could be quite boring.

For a few hours he had practiced meditation. Now, that the decision had been made, there was nothing left to ponder. He knew Luffy would agree with Rayleigh's proposal. He knew he had two long years to get stronger, much stronger.

But Zoro also knew this had its price.

Mihawk had advised him to hide his and Luffy's survival. That meant for the next two years people were not allowed to know that he was Lady Loreen and since he could not hinder his body from transforming, he had to continue playing the character Lady Loreen.

Kuraigana had the advantage of him being relatively undisturbed there, but he was not naive enough to believe that the World Government would leave him and Mihawk alone.

To study from Mihawk, he had to fill in the character Lady Loreen, and he already hated the plain thought about that.

What had he only gotten involved in?

Suddenly he could hear the throne being pushed backwards.

He sat up and saw the Shichibukai climbing on deck. He didn't really look better than before, quite the opposite. Heavy shadows marked his eyes and the wrinkles on his forehead were deeper than usual. His mouth was nothing more than a thin line; no, he didn't look like he had slept half a day.

But it was the way the elder looked at him that worried him the most.

"What happened to you?" Zoro muttered, resting his head on his hands. "You’re looking even worse."

"Very charming," the other replied sarcastically, pulling the chair back over the hatch. Mihawk looked at him again so piercingly and sat down.

"What?"

"You did not transform?"

"Obviously."

Why did he look at Zoro like that?

"Why? You think of Loreen as an unwanted side effect, so why have you not changed yet? You should be able to do so by now."

He was not surprised in the least that the other had already seen through his curse, his know-it-all-attitude was so annoying.

"Why should I have transformed?" Zoro grumbled. "It takes energy and I have to recover, transforming back and forth all the time is damn exhausting. And if we start training tomorrow, I have to be fit."

The elder nodded approvingly, putting a hand on his chin. His beard was rougher and more unkempt than usual.

“Besides, my other clothes were down there and I'm not going to transform in this dress.”

Now the other grinned weakly.

"That is right, I have not really thought about that yet. This is really a problem that we should also address."

"Also?"

The other's grin grew.

"Exactly. There is something more important that I want to discuss with you first."

Zoro nodded, but he didn’t like what was going on. The other had something about him that he disliked. As if the other had seen something that frightened him, and if the Shichibukai was afraid, it was reason enough to unsettle Zoro.

"And what would that be?"

The elder stretched his neck.

"Well, now that you are willing to learn the use of Haki, and of course we will confront that as soon as possible, I still have a question: Why is this such a sensitive topic for you? Why do you not want to use Haki? You even denied that you are able to learn it before."

Zoro froze and turned his gaze away.

He had been overenthusiastic; the knowledge that Luffy could use Haki had made him careless. If his captain could use Haki, he had to do it too; he was not allowed to stand back. But he had spoken impulsively, had recklessly said something that he did not mean.

Slowly he got cold and the thin coat was barely enough to protect him from the fresh wind.

The elder sighed, got up, and went under deck again. When he reappeared, he offered Zoro a blanket.

"You really have to pay more attention to yourself in this body. You should be aware by now that your needs in this body differ. Neglecting this body is neglecting yourself and your dream of defeating me, keep that in mind."

Zoro replied nothing as the Shichibukai sat down again, but simply wrapped the blanket around his shivering body.

“Well?” The other looked at him anticipating.

He bit his lower lip and stayed silent.

"Roronoa, you will have to talk about it at some point. This is not about humiliating or ridiculing you, but..."

"I've never said I'm not able to use it." He trembled, but no longer because of the chill air.

Mihawk then crouched down on the ground opposite to him, leaning against his throne, apparently making an effort to give this conversation a less formal setting.

"Roronoa, that means you have done it before?"

He nodded slowly, remembered pictures of his past.

"What happened, Roronoa?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"If nothing had happened, you would not behave this way."

Again, Zoro shook his head.

"Roronoa, you said I could not trust you, you said I had no idea what using Haki would mean for you. So, tell me, Roronoa, what happened? Why are you so afraid of your own powers?"

Slowly he looked up. The elder was calm, straightforward but not intrusive. Sighing, he leaned back, trying to gain some space.

"I was eleven," he began reluctantly, closing his eyes for a moment, "at that time I was training under Master Koshiro at a kendo school in the East Blue. As you can imagine, I was a good student, but also self-confident and arrogant."

"Oh, what a surprise."

"Shut up."

"So, Koshiro was your old master. Did he want to teach you Haki?"

Zoro shook his head. "No, he was against it."

He took a deep breath and loosened his shoulders.

"At that time, some battleship anchored near our village. Some soldiers were enthusiastic about the art of the sword and visited our dojo to look for promising talents."

"And they found you?"

He nodded: "My master was far from thrilled that they showed up, on the other hand it was a way for us students to compete with strangers."

"And they noticed you?"

He nodded again: "Mhm. I was pretty good, so good that some of them ran back to the ship to get their superior. For almost half a day, this Vice Admiral observed me before offering to teach me if I would come with him."

"And you did?"

"Of course not. I didn't think much of the Marines and back then Master Koshiro was... it would have been wrong for me to leave."

"Why did you feel so committed to your master?"

For a second, he looked at the other, but decided not to address that story as well.

"The Vice Admiral was very disappointed and wanted to persuade me to come along. He wanted to show me how much faster I could improve under his guidance by teaching me a special technique. However, my master was not particularly convinced of this. He thought I was too young, and he was worried about overstraining me. But that had only fueled me more, so I agreed to follow the Vice Admiral if he would teach me this technique."

The Shichibukai straightened up.

"This technique was Haki, I suppose."

Zoro nodded to the floor: "According to my master, it was a skill that required a high degree of mental maturity and inner strength, but the Vice Admiral thought I was very talented and he wanted to see if a boy my age could handle it."

The elder leaned his head to the side.

"I am surprised that you have agreed to this proposal contrary to the opinion of your teacher. It does not suit you.”

Zoro shrugged his shoulders.

"The problem was that I was actually improving very quickly at that point and was pretty convinced of myself. His words sounded to me at the time as if my master wanted to slow me down. I thought he was scared that I would get too good too soon, that I would be better than his daughter was with eleven, than he was with eleven."

"He wanted you to be thorough. Your enthusiasm made you inattentive."

Zoro agreed: "Exactly, but I didn't get that back then. In fact, I just agreed to the deal because of that. Not because I wanted to become a Marine or something, but just to show my master that I could learn more, that he could trust me more, challenge me more."

"So this Vice Admiral taught you Haki?"

"Like you, he thought that a swordsman had to be able to use an armor to protect his swords to be one of the best, and I wanted to be the best, so I trained continuously and was able to use the simplest basic forms within a few days."

He could see the surprise in the other's face but decided to ignore it.

"Even my master was impressed and that made me incredibly proud, but also arrogant, because I wanted to learn even more. I didn't just want to be able to put a weak shell around my sword. I wanted to fight with it, I wanted to be able to move freely. So, I begged the Vice Admiral to go one step further with me."

Zoro fell silent, while the other nodded softly: "Understandably, but I still see no reason for your grand aversion. Where does this uncertainty come from?"

"I'm not finished yet," he murmured. "At that time, I was far from insecure. On the contrary, for the first time in several months I felt like I was actually making real progress. I felt important, especially because the other students, even the soldiers, were impressed by me. I was special."

The other grinned slightly. "So, this is how you got your confidence?"

But Zoro looked away not able to shrug off this friendly mocking.

"Despite the objections of my master, the Vice Admiral decided that I should test my skills in a practice fight. Like you, he thought I would learn easier in direct confrontation than in theory. So he and a few soldiers came to the dojo to challenge me."

The pictures in his mind started to blur.

"And what happened then, Roronoa?"

He was silent.

"Roronoa!"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated.

"I was exhausted, I had been training constantly for days, barely slept, not taking any rest. But I would never have given up and this fight had been my chance, but these Marines fought so differently than any student, it wasn't a practice fight at all, at least not as I knew it. They were fighting like it was a matter of life and death, none of them wanted to be defeated by some boy. But I wanted to be better, I didn't want to lose, I wasn't allowed to lose, and then my sword broke."

He felt his hands begin to tremble. He dug them deep into the blanket, tried to hide them.

"Despite Haki?" Mihawk asked.

"It was the Haki," he whispered. "Instead of coating my weapon, I filled it from the inside out and let it burst, that’s at least how my master explained it to me later."

For a moment they both remained silent, then the elder sighed: "I admit that this form of Haki application is very unpleasant, but a broken sword is far from being a reason..."

"The sword is not the reason," Zoro disagreed, "it's only the last thing I remember: The bursting blade in front of my eyes."

It was so quiet, even the wind seemed to listen to him.

"Is that the case?" the Shichibukai muttered earnestly. "Then what is the next thing you remember?"

For a second, Zoro hesitated and remembered that moment.

"I was lying on the floor, it was wet, it was cold; Master Koshiro was cowering above me; his glasses were broken and he was covered in blood all over. He was wounded, an injury at his left shoulder, but it wasn't bad enough for so much blood.” He took another deep breath. "And I too was covered in blood, my clothes were wet and heavy but still warm, it smelled of sweat and blood."

He bit his lower lip.

“That day I killed five people and injured dozens, and I don't remember a second of it. My master made sure that the Marines wouldn’t hold me accountable and since no one wanted to admit that an entire unit had gotten defeated by a child, it was not even documented."

Slowly, the other rose and folded his arms.

"For several days I was bedridden. I had minor injuries but nothing bad, but I couldn't move my body no matter how hard I tried. When I got back to the dojo, no one talked about the incident and my master taught me the way he had always done."

Zoro looked at the sea while Mihawk turned away.

"When I asked him what had happened, he just said that my talent was one of a kind and that I was destined to do something incomparable, but that it was in my hands if for better or for worse. He said that I should think carefully about which way I wanted to go. That day I swore to never use Haki again, because at that moment my teacher was afraid of me, afraid of the monster within me."

He had never talked about it. Whom could he have told such a thing? Whom could he have showed the monster he tried to hide all his life? Who could understand this feeling?

"You wanted to know my story, well, there you have it. Are you satisfied now?" He asked the elder's back.

Hawk Eyes remained silent for a long time, and Zoro wasn't sure if he really wanted the other to break this silence. However, it gradually became unbearable.

Eventually, the other turned to him.

"Roronoa, tell me, do you still want to be the best swordsman in the world?"

Coolly, the elder looked down to him.

"Of course."

Mihawk nodded plainly.

"Then you will have to learn to use Haki."

"Yes, but haven’t you just list..."

"Roronoa. You are right. It is unusual and it is certainly something that we must not deal with lightly. But it is not an excuse to not learn Haki." The elder crouched down again, so that they were at eye level. "It is very simple, Roronoa. Without Haki, without the special technique of hardening, it will be impossible for you to defeat me. As in the East Blue, your swords will be destroyed in the battle against the Black Sword. It is not like you have a choice. If you want to be the best swordsman in the world, you have to be able to use Haki and your Haki must be stronger than mine."

Zoro looked away.

"But what if I can't control it? What if I become this monster again?"

"Then we will train until you can control it. Two years should be long enough."

The elder got up again.

"But..."

"Roronoa!" He offered him a hand. "You can trust me. You heard Shakuyak. It takes a monster to kill another. So, without this monster within you, you will not even be able to defeat me."

Zoro didn't know why, but somehow those words had something comforting. As if the other knew exactly what he was talking about.


	18. Chapter 14 - Chess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I hope you had a great week and will have an even greater weekend!
> 
> I'm in a great mood right now! Though work and studying is really tough, other things seem to be running smoothly at the moment, especially writing makes a lot of fun at the moment after a few really hard weeks, and good friend of mine visited, so I feel like everything is possible.
> 
> Thank you all for your great comments the last week, despite being a writer I can't put into words how happy your kind, sweet, and funny words make me. They inspire and encourage me and I will work really hard to do them justice, so I hope you will keep enjoying this little adventure ;-)
> 
> See you Monday^^

Chapter 14 - Chess

-Zoro-

"This here will be your room from now on. It is much more appropriate than the servant's room, and my bedroom is just down the hallway.”

Zoro peeked past Hawk Eyes into a spacious, plain chamber that had probably once been magnificent, but now it was almost empty except for a huge bed with heavy curtains and an ancient cupboard whose decor had already faded.

"Why would I sleep in a ballroom? What the hell am I supposed to do with all this space? I don’t need it. The room upstairs is absolutely fine."

"It is not," the Shichibukai grumbled, carrying the luggage in despite Zoro’s objection, "you do not understand, Roronoa. This is not a temporary room, no guest room. This room now belongs to you with everything that it offers. This here is your room."

Zoro watched the Shichibukai pull clothes out of a box and putting them into the large, dark closet. He understood what the other wanted to say; Zoro was no longer a guest.

"What about Perona?"

“Why should I care about her? Let her sleep above the kitchen." Hawk Eyes turned towards him. "Well, put on something more comfortable and then come to the entry hall. Meanwhile I will call Kanan to solve that issue with your clothes and ensure our supply."

“I'm not supposed to transform?" Zoro asked doubtingly.

"No, I will continue to train you in this form."

"What? Why?"

Mihwak sighed as if his reasons were quite obvious.

"Did we not talk about this last night? I will teach you how to use Haki and find out if you may even possess the qualities of a king, but after what you have told me we should not act carelessly."

Zoro hesitated. "Have you ever heard of anything like this before? Of any other person like me?"

"No."

Zoro looked away.

"In all my years, I have never heard of someone becoming an uncontrolled monster through the use of Haki without even remembering it."

Zoro bit his lower lip.

"However, I am already looking forward to this challenge."

They looked at each other, Mihawk grinning wildly. Zoro couldn't remember seeing the other one grin this dangerously.

"Leave the brooding to me, Roronoa. I will take care of you and make you an excellent master of the sword." Then the elder walked past him. "In ten minutes in the entrance hall. Be on time."

-Mihawk-

"Did I not tell you to be on time?" He grumbled when his student finally came through the door, the ghost girl in tow, at least ten minutes late. "Tardiness is no virtue, you know?"

"This castle is a maze," the youngster replied roughly, "how can you live here?"

"I’ve told you three times to take the stairs, but you walked past them every time," complained the girl with the pink hair.

"Be that as it may," Mihawk ended the quarrel and turned to the door, "let us go, Roronoa. We still have a lot to do today."

"And what about me?" This girl was already annoying him.

"What you do is indifferent to me. Do try not to set the kitchen on fire again when you prepare dinner."

"I'm not your maid!" She hissed, but immediately backed off as he looked at her.

"If you want to live here, you have to earn it. The supply ship should be here in merely two weeks. Then you can leave, but until then I expect that you are making yourself useful." He turned around and left. "Come, Roronoa, the evening is already around the corner."

"Why are we going outside?" Roronoa asked, walking directly behind him.

"As pleasant as this island is, there is no actual place for practice and since I am reluctant to endanger my home, we will train outside."

The other muttered something approving and followed him.

"So, what’s your plan?" Roronoa finally said when they reached the tombstone.

Although the Humandrills had been able to recover during the last two days, not one of them was seen, not that it surprised him.

"Where are the monkeys?" Roronoa asked, apparently having similar thoughts.

“They won't come out until I allow it.”

He turned to his student. Roronoa, as always, had his hair tied together and wore long, tight-fitting clothes that allowed him as much freedom of movement as possible. But his gaze had something uncertain, Roronoa was afraid of what was to come.

"Calm down, Roronoa. We will not start with the Busoshoku Haki today.”

"Not?"

"No, I think it makes more sense that you first learn how to use the Kenbunshoku Haki."

"Why?" Now his little frog already seemed much more relaxed.

"Why do you not try to explain it yourself? I think it is about time I stop spoon-feeding you everything. So tell me, why do we first turn to this technique?"

For a moment, the other remained silent and seemed to think.

"You want that I learn it first as Loreen," he muttered, "as Loreen, I have to learn to fight in a way that I don't have to block an attack at all, because that body will breaks way too easy, so it's more important that I can dodge an attack instead of just protecting my swords."

Roronoa looked at him seriously.

"As Loreen I depend on the Kenbunshoku Haki, I need to sense how my enemy might attack, that’s why you have already started teaching me the basics and that's why we should continue to train it."

Mihawk nodded pleased, almost surprised how much the other apparently already knew about Haki.

"Exactly, you already mastered the basics, and nothing has happened. I assume that is either because of the technique or this body, so you will learn to use the Kenbunshoku Haki in this form first, then as a man, and after that we will focus on the Busoshoku Haki. In case the unimaginable should occur and the monster within you is uncontrollable, at least you will know that you can easily apply the Kenbunshoku Haki."

He could see the other getting serious.

"So, you think it’s a possibility, that I can’t control it?"

"Of course. I think it is quite unlikely, but as I said, I have never seen anything like that before and I am rather excited to see it myself."

“Tze…”

"Still there is also another reason," Mihawk said then, taking off his vest. "As talented as you seem to be with the application of the Busoshoku Haki, as ungifted you are when it comes to the Kenbunshoku Haki." 

"What?" The younger one seemed angered.

"Yes, in fact it took you a relatively long time to learn the basics given your talent." He placed his vest over a broken pillar and straightened his collar.

"But I was faster than you expected," the pirate grumbled.

"You have been able to use it, indeed, but even so far you have not managed to control it consciously. It is a gamble whether you use it or not. You also lack concentration." He folded his arms. "Let us begin. We have a lot to do today."

-Zoro-

A quiet drizzle had set in, the darkness of the night had already broken over them hours ago and there was still no trace of the monkeys.

For the past three days they had been training almost without taking any breaks and Zoro felt that everything he had learned during the last month was nothing compared to his current training.

Mihawk was even stricter, more demanding, even more ruthless.

It seemed like the Shichibukai had finally started to train him properly, only now he seemed to take the training seriously.

Last month he had trained Zoro so he could survive, now Mihawk wanted to shape him, wanted to make him a master of the sword. Only now he had become Zoro’s true teacher.

"I think this is enough for today."

Zoros head was pounding painfully.

"You made good progress today. You can be satisfied."

"Oh really?" He muttered exhausted, burying his face in his hands, "I feel like I haven’t been making anything but headaches for three days."

He could hear the other laughing as Mihawk came towards him and patted his shoulder slightly, which was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

"Oh, am I demanding too much?"

Zoro shook his head.

"No, we had agreed on doing it this way."

"Absolutely." He could hear the grin in Mihawk’s voice.

Groaning, he leaned his head back and stretched himself. The gentle rain cooled his face. He really hadn’t expected it to be that draining. After all, it wasn't a training in the physical sense, it was rather a mind thing.

"Come on, Roronoa, let us go back. You should eat something and take a shower, you smell disastrous."

"Oh, kiss my ass," he growled, loosening his shoulders.

"Such a bad mood."

"Yes, I'm not the one who just sits around reading newspapers the whole time. Unlike you, I train all day."

"This may be because, unlike you, I can control Haki. I am already the best swordsman in the world, I can afford sitting around and reading newspaper."

"Oh, that was mean." Perona came down from the tombstone and hovered between them. Since she was alone most of the time, she had decided to accompany Mihawk and him today.

"Keep quiet, ghost girl," warned the Shichibukai, "just because I tolerate your presence does not mean that I value your opinion."

"Bah!" She stuck her tongue out at Mihawk, but then quickly flew away. The elder did not even pay tribute to her with a reaction but looked at Zoro.

"When we are back inside, you should transform immediately so that you have as long as possible."

Zoro just nodded and together they set off.

Mihawk had completely overturned Zoro's training concept. Now he spent all day as Loreen and turned into his real body just to go to sleep. Until now, he had turned back into Loreen each night on his own unintentionally. Zoro also had to train that, but he wasn’t sure how to do so, but Mihawk didn’t seem to worry too much about it and Zoro tried not to as well.

So he transformed, showered, and put on something comfortable.

The transformations were still painful, bringing him to the edge of his strengths, but Zoro believed he was getting better. The shower was, of course, a pure blessing and he could not help but notice the differences of his two bodies. He was really grateful to have his body back, at least something he could rely on. Yet he knew that even that was a lie by now. At some point his body forced him to transform, even his own body could now become his weakness.

After getting dressed, he went to the old-fashioned fireplace room.

The Shichibukai and the ghost princess were already there, to Zoro's surprise they played chess. Mihawk had leaned back, his arms folded, while Perona looked at the chess board obviously desperate.

"On the table is the newspaper, Roronoa. You should read it," the elder greeted him and placed his piercing eyes on Zoro for several seconds.

"Checkmate in three moves," he then said, without even looking at the game in front of him.

"What?!" Perona jumped up. "But..."

"Your moves are predictable and simple, almost childlike naive. Even Roronoa could beat you and he is really no genius."

"Is there anything to eat?" Zoro murmured, ignoring their banter.

"Besides the newspaper you find what you are looking for, Roronoa." The elder sounded both bored and annoyed. "It would be desirable to use your own eyes before you complain."

"What rattled your cage?" Zoro grumbled and sat down.

At the table was a plate of simple food, already cooled rice with some meat, nothing fancy but more than enough for him. His gaze, however, had already fallen on the newspaper.

"What the hell?" He whispered.

"Have you really not expected it to happen?" The Shichibukai sighed. "Rayleigh told you all about it. Your captain must somehow inform his crew. Even if that means that the whole world knows by now that he is still alive."

Zoro looked over to Mihawk, who was moving a pawn, making Perona gasp.

He quickly read the article.

"You mean these 16 chimes are a secret message to us?"

"Dear God!" The older groaned loudly. "Oh, Roronoa. Please, think again."

"What do you want?!" Zoro barked back at the other, who sighed deeply and came over.

"Look at the article again," advised Mihawk and sat down on the tabletop in front of him. "Take your time and think. This is not the plan of the Straw Hat, but of Rayleigh. Take that into account."

Zoro stared at the newspaper. What did the other mean? Was it not about the chimes? But that was the only thing odd mentioned in the article.

After several minutes, the Shichibukai got up again and finished the game with Perona.

"Roronoa, you already know the result, you know what the plan is, so what is the medium through which your captain wants to show his decision? It has to be easy enough that all your friends understand it just by looking at it."

And then he saw it. Like a tattoo on the arm of his captain.

"Oh right. Not three days but two years."

"Exactly. The Straw Hat could have hardly done it much more obviously without it being noticed. Indeed, a good plan," the Shichibukai remarked.

Slowly, Zoro dropped the newspaper and began to eat.

"But will the others figure it out? After all, we only knew it because Rayleigh told us before."

"Please just talk for yourself, Roronoa," replied the elder coolly, "just with the background information Rayleigh gave us, you should have noticed it immediately."

"Do you want to say I'm stupid?" He growled, emptying his plate.

"You really need to ask..." Perona looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Living in a glass house..." Mihawk remarked.

“Hey!”

But again, the Shichibukai ignored her.

"Come here, Roronoa," he demanded cold.

"What? Why?" But he already stood up. Zoro disliked the other using this commanding tone, on the other hand Mihawk was his teacher.

“I think it is time to train more than just your body. Your thoughts are still blunt and rough, but a master of the sword needs a sharp mind, as sharp as his sword. Sit down."

Zoro sat down opposite of Mihawk at the chessboard.

"Ghost girl, please clear the table."

"Stop bossing me around. By the way, my name is Perona!"

He could feel the calculating gaze of the elder on himself.

"Come, Roronoa. Let us play some chess."

He watched the other suspiciously. "Why? Last time you crushed me and mocked me all day with it. I haven't gotten any better since.”

"I did not expect you too."

"Oh, fuck you!" He wanted to get up again.

"Roronoa, please." The elder looked at him seriously. "Try to reconsider your choice of words a little bit and not always react so irrepressibly."

"I would, if you stopped pretending you were better than the rest of the world!"

The other looked at him with big eyes. 

"Excuse me? I do not..."

"Oh, just forget it!"

“Roronoa?”

"Let's just play," he murmured, pinning his eyes on the chessboard instead of looking at the other.

"Of course, as you wish," Mihawk replied and mirrored Zoro’s movements by placing the figures on the field. Neither of them said anything.

"I am sorry."

Surprised, Zoro looked up as the other inspected the rook in his hand.

"I was not aware how my behavior could affect you. I am probably so used of having to assert myself among enemies that sometimes I forget when it is not necessary."

Now Zoro looked away, could feel his cheeks heating up.

"That's not what it's about," he confessed softly, noting how the other looked at him.

"It's me," he muttered, "I can't just keep relying on some Rayleigh explaining his plan to me beforehand, or that you're standing behind me and spelling it all out for me. I have to pay attention to something like this myself."

Slowly he looked up to the elder, who observed him just as calmly.

Zoro didn't know how to put into words what he was thinking. How could he tell the other that he sometimes felt stupid next to him? How could he tell Mihawk that he was doubting to have the intelligence he needed?

Of course, he wasn't as simple as Luffy, as naive as Usopp. He was a survival strategist, knew the knowledge of the street, but he was not like Robin, not like Chopper, certainly not like Mihawk and up until now that had never been important to him, but now...

"I don't just want to be the guy with the muscles in the crew," he said honestly. "I know I'm not as smart as Nami or like the damn cook, but..." Now he looked away again. "But how can I ever defeat you if you see through each of my strategies faster than I can make them up. You said the mind must be as sharp as the sword and by now I wonder if I'm not just some log."

The other buried his chin between long-limbed fingers without answering.

Zoro looked at the chessboard. In the past, he had never thought about such things, had not thought of himself as stupid or anything like that, had always thought that he was alright the way he was. Of course, in some conversations with Robin, he had wondered how someone could regard and evaluate so many things at the same time, but it had never intimidated him.

But since he spent time with the Shichibukai, he always felt slow, dull. As if the elder was always speaking extra slowly and clearly for him. When they talked about something other than swords, Zoro noticed more and more often that he didn't really understand that much. Most of the time, the elder was patient, explaining things calmly. But sometimes Mihawk was irritated or tired, sometimes things apparently seemed that obvious for Mihawk that he didn't expect that he would have to explain it to Zoro.

Yes, in the presence of Mihawk, Zoro often felt stupid and now it seemed as if he couldn't even change that.

"Your words surprise me, Roronoa," the Shichibukai confessed, looking over at him. "I had not realized how much you have already thought about this topic."

Zoro continued to look at the chessboard.

The elder sighed softly. "Maybe you are right, maybe your mind is not a sword, but rather an axe."

Zoro raised only one hand in agreement and rolled his eyes.

"But even a battle axe can be deadly in combat, especially if it is sharp."

From the corner of his eye, he could clearly see that the other was grinning.

"If you want, I will help you sharpen your mind and then you will see if you are really as stupid as you think you are."

Now he looked at the elder, who managed to offer him help while insulting him.

"Let us play, Roronoa. I have not had a good game in years and who knows, maybe you will be able to beat me within the next two years." The elder's grin grew. "Chess is a strategy game, if you defeat me, you could find mine before I could discover yours and believe me, you may think you are stupid, but I think I am very clever."

Now the elder leaned forward.

"And I have not been defeated in chess for years."

It was an invitation, a demand, a challenge.

Like in the East Blue back then. Mihawk wanted that Zoro would surpass him, well aware that Zoro was no match for him at the moment.

A fleeting smile crept on Zoro's lips.

"But before we start, I have a little task for you." The other got up and went to the desk at the other end of the room. From a drawer he pulled a carafe with clear liquid. "I hope you like gin," he said calmly, filling their glasses.

At that moment, Perona came back.

"And what task would that be?" Zoro asked suspiciously.

"Explain to me how the game works."

"What? You know it."

"Of course. But it is only when you can explain something freely and simply that it also means that you have understood it yourself. Explain it and understand it. Think and dig deeper. Do not just accept knowledge you are told but try to understand the background. Only this way will you achieve what you have set out to achieve."

Slowly, Zoro nodded.

The other had not given up on him. Once again, the other had awakened something in him that he had been willing to bury.

"Okay, good. Then I'll start."


	19. Chapter 15 - Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I hope you're all having a great start into the new week. Here's the next update, Hope you'll enjoy it^^
> 
> As always I really do appreciate your kind words and kudos! Today I'm really busy, so that's all I got to say;-)
> 
> See you friday!

Chapter 15 - Dance

-Mihawk-

"And again!" Disapprovingly, he looked down at Roronoa, who cowered breathing heavily on the floor and brushed his arm across his sweaty forehead. "Are you serious?"

"I'm trying!" Roronoa growled at him and straightened up. Gasping for air he finally stood there, his short hair stood off in all directions, his white shirt soaked in sweat. He really tried; it was easy to see.

“You are too tense. Relax and close your eyes. Concentrate."

"Yeah, I know, I know," the younger one replied, loosening his shoulders.

Roronoa went back into the starting position and closed his eyes.

"Ready?"

The younger one nodded.

For almost a month now they had been training on Kuraigana. As Loreen, his student had mastered the basics of Kenbunshoku Haki steady enough that Mihawk had moved on to the next point.

Since the early morning, Zoro was facing him.

Yet it was as if the past weeks had not happened at all, because although Roronoa was able to use the Kenbunshoku Haki as Loreen, he fundamentally failed in his male form.

Yesterday Roronoa had been able to foresee Mihawk’s attacks, had become good enough to be able to dodge his – Mihawk’s – attacks, within barely a month. Though Mihawk would not tell Roronoa this unasked, he was really talented.

But now as Zoro, his reflexes were as bad as those of an old man. He could not even see _,_ let alone use Haki.

Mihawk was able to regulate the speed of his attacks and although he tried to be slow, the other slammed face forward against the ground.

"From above?!" Roronoa barked at him, still facing the dirt. "Seriously?"

"Who says that I would attack only from right or left? You know that the Kenbunshoku Haki has no blind spot. So, get up and repeat at once."

Groaning Roronoa followed his order, his face completely reddened by the impact.

"Why doesn't it work?" His little frog grumbled dissatisfied. "Yesterday I was able to do it. It should be the same. Why can't I do it now?"

Mihawk watched the younger one, could feel the anger and disappointment. Roronoa really tried, he really wanted to do it, and yet he was not able to.

The past few weeks had been tough, but not once had the other complained, never given up, but just now he seemed to drown in despair. Presumably, Roronoa wondered if he as Zoro was worse than as Loreen. What a grueling question.

"Close your eyes," Mihawk ordered cold, and the younger one obeyed. "Open your arms."

"What?" But Roronoa did what he wanted. "Why?"

Decisively, Mihawk took three steps forward and grabbed the younger man's right hand with his left. He then placed his right hand around the other's hip.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Roronoa quickly tried to free himself, but Mihawk was able to hold him tightly effortless.

"This exercise has already proven to be useful once. I doubt a second attempt could hurt.”

Angry, the other stared up at him. Although Roronoa’s face was now much harder, these eyes were exactly the same and Mihawk liked this glow, this sparkle that made it quite clear to him that the other was not afraid of him, could not be intimidated by him. Yes, he liked the other's gaze.

"I'm not dancing!" Roronoa growled. "I want to train."

"This is training," he replied calmly. "Close your eyes and let me guide you."

"Why?" The other still looked at him so angry. "Why dancing?"

He sighed softly. "Then let me explain again, so that you can understand. Sometimes we need different methods. Please, relax and close your eyes."

He did not know how many times he had already said this sentence today. Sometimes the younger one really challenged his patience.

Quietly grumbling under his breath, the other finally closed his eyes.

"But only this once."

"Only until you can do it."

And then he stepped forward. Roronoa reacted almost immediately and even though the youngster did not like to dance, he still mastered the steps. However, Roronoa moved rather awkward, stumbling over his own feet and moving clumsily, lifting his arms too high and pushing too much against Mihawk's hand.

Over time, things got better. The other found the rhythm and slowly got used to the movements. In fact, Mihawk noticed how much easier it was to dance with Zoro than with Loreen. The young man in his arms was bigger, his steps longer. Roronoa’s left hand was touching his shoulder and not on his upper arm, their arm lengths were more similar, so Mihawk did not have to bend down as much. Roronoa was able to react much better to him in this form and was able to offer him much more freedom of movement.

Although Zoro was much stiffer than Loreen, this dance had something pleasant. It was different from back then during practice, different from back then during the ball. Mihawk did not have to adapt to the younger one, not anymore.

"Have you noticed?" He asked, turning the other.

"What?" Roronoa grumbled with his eyes closed.

"Stop being upset about dancing and pay attention," he ordered.

"Whatever..."

It was quiet around them; only their steps, their breathing, and their heartbeats could be heard.

"It's different," Roronoa finally whispered.

"What is different?" He asked instead of explaining it.

"Dancing. You move differently and I move differently. Why?"

"Yes, why? That is what you must focus on. What is different from before?"

He almost had to bite his tongue to avoid spilling it out.

"I am," Roronoa replied, "I am different. It's a different body.”

Mihawk nodded contentedly.

"Right, you are taller, broad-shouldered. Your stride length is wider, your movements are rougher, all this is due to your body and we adapt to that. That is why the way we dance is changing. The dance feels different, not better, not worse, just different."

The other remained silent, but then he mumbled: "Is it the same with Haki? Because it's a different body, it feels different, and I expected it to feel the same as Loreen?"

"Bravo. That is exactly what it is. Do not expect it to feel the same. You know that both your bodies are different, you have even complained about the hormonal instabilities, how can you expect that using Haki would feel the same?"

Roronoa opened his eyes and looked at him. They still followed the steps, like an old clockwork.

"But how do I know if I'm right? That I'm doing it right?"

"We are going to change this exercise now, so it will not be the same as it was before as well."

"And how?" The other seemed unconvinced.

"Close your eyes."

"Again?"

"Stop complaining. It is not my fault you have to learn it twice."

He let go of the younger one and took a step back, changing their positions.

"Mirror my posture," he said calmly, maintaining the basic dance position, only holding his hands as if he were pushing his palms against a wall. "Keep a distance of just barely an inch.”

Roronoa followed his instructions. His hands just almost touching Mihawk’s.

"And now close your eyes."

The younger man looked up at him with a raised eyebrow but did as he was told.

"I want you to move as soon as you feel like I want to move."

"But how..."

"You will notice it, you will be able to feel it. And now be quiet."

Seconds passed without anything happening.

"You’re not moving," murmured the other between gritted teeth.

“I have no intention of moving first. The goal is that you are moving before I do it, that you react before I even act. You know how it works."

Again, it was quiet and except for the wind in the treetops nothing moved.

This time they were silent for a long period, he saw Roronoa’s closed eyes twitching with concentration, his lips pinched tightly, his forehead furrowed in deep wrinkles.

Roronoa took this training seriously. He was even more stubborn than he had already been at Sasaki a month ago. He hardly took any breaks and tried to improve constantly, during training, during his transformations, during chess. It was fun, Mihawk had never seen anyone work so hard, much harder than he had done back then. Perhaps his father would have been proud of him if he had worked so hard.

Now…

Roronoa took a step back. Then he opened his eyes.

"Very good," Mihawk confirmed, "and with thus the exercise was successful."

"What?" The younger man looked at him dissatisfied. "That could have been just a coincidence."

Perhaps his admonishing words were indeed already bearing fruit.

"Indeed. That is why we will repeat this for now until you can move along as if this were a dance. We will practice until we dance."

"I didn't even know the goal was dancing," the other muttered grumbling, looking away.

"You know the goal. This is nothing more than a way to achieve it."

"Mhm," the younger murmured half-heartedly approving.

"Good, then back in position and close your eyes."

The training went on for a long time, it took hours for them to take more than two or three steps. Sweat dripped down Roronoa's forehead, but otherwise nothing betrayed the effort he had to endure. His body posture had not changed, he seemed tense but not too tense. Now they moved for several seconds to an unstable beat that Mihawk deliberately indicated, trying to not take a typical dance step, nothing that the other could recognize, nothing to anticipate.

It worked out quite well, so he decided to change tactics. He stopped, just like Roronoa.

After another second, the other opened his eyes.

"Why did you stop?"

"I want to try something."

"And that would be?" The other stretched his neck briefly.

"You will see, let us start anew."

"Well, whatever."

They both went into position again and after a little more than three seconds Roronoa took a step towards him. After a few breaths they had found their rhythm again.

"Do you know why I do not favor meditating?" Mihawk asked into the silence, watching the other closely.

"What?" Roronoa missed a step and opened his eyes.

"Eyes shut and keep moving."

The other obeyed.

"So? Do you know why?"

"No."

As expected, Roronoa had difficulties now.

"I think it is wise for someone to arrange their own thoughts and clear one’s mind. Harmony between body and soul is very important. Keep paying attention, Roronoa. Just because we are talking does not mean the exercise is over.”

The other bit his lower lip and nodded.

Mihawk could not prevent a grin. He doubted Roronoa had done it in the past, it seemed like a typically feminine facial expression, but it made him seem younger, almost childish.

Roronoa took a deep breath and went back into the initial position. After two heartbeats, he bent backwards.

"Good." Mihawk bent over the younger one, his left hand following the other and exerted pressure at the same time without touching him. Then they went on.

"What bothers me about practicing meditation is that it can only be done under ideal circumstances. You must not move, you shall not see anything, you have to be in an adapted environment. In a fight, this harmony cannot be imitated."

They moved in unsteady steps, almost fluent but interrupted again and again.

"You can use meditation only under perfect conditions, but then if you could really use the power of meditation, you do not have the opportunity to use it. So, at the end of the day, it is simply useless.”

The other followed his steps before Mihawk made them. Roronoa slowly got better.

"But only at the beginning," Roronoa muttered.

The younger one missed a step but caught himself again. They went on.

"In the beginning, you meditate under ideal circumstances so that you can first find out how it should feel and focus on it on your own. But the goal is that you can get this inner peace at any time and no matter what happens. This harmony you mentioned I can always regain, regardless of my surroundings, even independently of my own feelings, if I just want to."

The other bent to the right and Mihawk followed the movement, an ignorant spectator would believe that he was the one adapting to the younger one.

"Isn't it the same as this exercise?" Roronoa asked. "First you start to perceive the other person in a calm position, later there is movement and then distraction. Everything to improve the concentration. So that at some point you can use the Kenbunshoku Haki just as well in confusing situations."

A grin crept on Mihawk's face, so the other had seen through the exercise.

They moved on. His student had understood it without having to be spoon-fed, he had grasped the exercise.

"But then I don't understand it," Roronoa muttered, taking several steps back relatively quickly.

"What do you not understand?" He followed the other.

They turned.

“It's the same thing, it has the same reasons and you know that. So you consciously use it to train me and yet you think meditating is pointless. Why?"

The other stopped, highly concentrated.

"Because it is unnecessary for me," he replied. “I do not need it to find a balanced mind. I am always in control of my feelings."

The other raised an eyebrow disapprovingly but said nothing. They went on.

"You do not believe me?" He asked with a smile.

At first the younger man remained silent as they continued the exercise, but then he shook his head.

"No."

Almost indignantly, Mihawk wanted to stop, but thought of a better.

"That is all I get? Some unexplained _No?"_

The other kept a straight face but followed the movements relentlessly.

"If what you said were true," he finally muttered, "then we would never have ended up here. If you were always in control of your feelings, you would have never agreed to teach me and would have never come up with the idea of ignoring the orders of the World Government just because of me."

The words of the other surprised him. The younger one was right.

"You don't always control your feelings," Roronoa said now, "you can suppress them, act despite them, but you can’t control them constantly."

They stopped.

"Not when it comes to me."

He looked at the younger man, who was still focused and seemed serious.

"You're not objective when it comes to me," he said. "Although I have no idea why."

The other hesitated, but then he took a step to the side. Mihawk followed him without replying. Silently, they continued the exercise. Roronoa did not even seem to expect a reaction from him, not that he knew what to say. Roronoa was right about everything he had said. Mihawk as well had already thought a lot about it.

It was true that when it came to Roronoa he was not objective, could not even be; Roronoa was his weak spot.

"We are going to change the exercise now," he said calmly, and almost simultaneously he took back his right hand, clenched it to a fist and hit. 

"It’s up to you," replied the other. In the middle of the sentence, he had already turned to the side, barely fast enough to escape his fist.

He still forced the other to move, forcing him several steps back while forcing his torso to dodge.

"A good dance is like a fight," he mumbled as the younger man bent beneath his hand.

"Is this like dancing for you?" The other turned to the side and dodged him again.

"To be honest, yes."

Slowly he picked up pace and Roronoa also moved faster and smoother. Gradually, the other built up what he had already achieved as Loreen.

"Is it already time for you to think about your transformation?" He tried to distract the other.

But Roronoa did not seem to let himself be put off.

"I think I have a little more than an hour left."

"Before you have to transform or before you cannot move due pain?"

Roronoa grinned. "Both."

"Are you not afraid of the pain?"

If he knew one thing about the other's fights, it was that the other had always fought the bloodiest, most painful battles compared to his crew members, almost as if he were looking for the pain or as if his body did not matter to him.

"There’s no need to be afraid of pain," said the other calmly. "Pain means that the body fights back, that you fight. It's only when you don't feel it that you should be afraid."

The younger one sounded serious, as if he were aware of exactly what he was talking about.

"Like dying?" Mihawk asked thoughtfully.

"Like giving up," Roronoa replied harshly.

They kept moving in a dance-like exchange of blows.

"Your logic is really odd to me, Roronoa. As often it makes no sense to me."

The younger one laughed quietly but interrupted himself when he could barely yield Mihawk's kick by falling and had to catch himself with both hands.

"You rarely make sense to me as well. This concern for reputation and status, tze. I'll probably never understand that.”

Mihawk wanted to reply when he noticed something. He stopped.

"What is it?" Roronoa had also stopped and looked at him confused.

He saw through the shadows of the trees that seemed alive through the eternal twilight.

"You tell me," he said to the younger one without looking at him, "what has just happened?"

The younger man folded his arms and closed his eyes, but after a few seconds he knelt down and touched the earth with both hands.

Mihawk watched the other. Roronoa could hardly use his Kenbunshoku Haki properly in this form, so was he just trying to use the earth as a medium to sharpen his senses?

And yet the boy doubted his intelligence. Grinning, Mihawk shook his head about the other.

But after a moment Roronoa shrugged his shoulders and looked up to him unsatisfied.

"A ship of the World Government has just arrived," Mihawk said, holding up four fingers.

"Four people?" Roronoa froze, still trying to track down the new arrivals, but he just was not able yet.

"No, four security guards, or rather bodyguards and an old man."

Roronoa's forehead furrowed.

"An old man?" He asked doubtfully. "What does he want here? The monkeys will kill them. Do you know who it is?"

“Eizen.”

“What?!“

Nodding, he turned to his vest, which he had placed over a stone not far away and put it on.

"We should head back to the castle. I fear that the Humandrills will not kill him. Therefore, we should be prepared for his arrival." He took his sword and threw it over his shoulder. "Well, come on, you certainly do not want him to see you like that, honorable Lady Loreen."

"Very funny," murmured the other, rushing next to him towards the castle. "How long do you think we have?"

"Thirteen minutes at most but at least ten, depending on how fast Eizen can walk."

Roronoa sighed.

"Wouldn't it be better to just not let him in, in the first place? How does he even know that I'm here? Maybe we should just pretend I'm still on Sasaki?"

“He knows it. I would never leave you defenseless for a long time, he knows. I also assume that he has already visited Sasaki. We cannot hide you; he would smell the lie right away. Remember, just like me, he grew up in this world."

"And the truth is not an option? Then we'd be going to get rid of him easily.”

They had already reached the stairs to the entrance.

"Of course not, Roronoa. No one should know that you are still alive and certainly not who you are, otherwise, they will chase you and the rest of your crew again."

Groaning, the younger man rubbed his face with one hand.

"Well, that means we have to go back on stage, right?"

"No complaining, it is just the dancing scene."


	20. Chapter 16 - Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so glad I could make it. Have been sick for a few days and work is just building up, but I wanted to keep my word, so here's the next chapter.
> 
> Hope you like it ;-) I have read your lovely comments, thanks a lot, I will answer them properly, but not right now (I'm heading to bed now^^') so have a great weekend!

Chapter 16 - Visitor

-Mihawk-

"Did you understand me? I will not repeat myself.”

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, it's not that hard. But do I really have to change?"

"You cannot show yourself to the outside world like that. You have to look reputable at least and that is not possible with your clothing style."

"What do you have against my clothes?"

He had to keep calm, but this brat was really a true test of patience.

"I do not care about your clothes. But for a confidant of Lady Loreen you dress too ordinary. Noble and elegant, do you get that or not?"

The ghost girl puffed her cheeks.

"So old-fashioned and prudish? Yes, of course, it won't be that hard."

"Well, then go, change, and help Roronoa. Remember, respectful and polite manners. And it would not hurt to remind Roronoa of that as well."

Again, she rolled her eyes.

"Stop bossing me around, I am not your maid, and I’m doing you a favor right now!"

He turned to the mirror and perfected his hairstyle, of course he looked impeccable.

"You have decided to stay here and not to travel with the merchant ship to the Sabaody Archipelago. I did not invite you. You owe your life only to Roronoa's kindness, so behave accordingly."

"Oh Geez, you’re so annoying. Compared to you, even Zoro is a prince charming."

But she went out and hopefully to Roronoa.

A few minutes ago, they had rushed to the castle, because Eizen was almost at the door. Roronoa would need at least a few minutes to transform, wash off sweat and dirt, and to dress reasonably acceptable.

They had already expected that Eizen would appear sooner or later, but that did not mean that they had been looking forward to it and this early even Mihawk had not reckoned with the politician.

Once again, he cast a look in the mirror. Then he threw his sword over his shoulder and went to the entrance hall. He would welcome Eizen with all his presence, making clear whose home this was and who was only visiting uninvited.

It meant a lot that the politician arrived with staff this time; it was obvious that he did not trust Mihawk, but that was based on mutuality.

In the anteroom he waited, his gaze fixed on the double-sided gate.

Loudly it knocked three times. The blows hollowed through the vastness of the old castle. As if by magic, both sides of the gate glided open simultaneously.

"Eizen," he said coldly, "I was already waiting for you."

The old man with opaque sunglasses bowed swiftly. Unlike Mihawk, he obviously wanted to preserve etiquette.

"Lord Dracule. It is reassuring to see that not all Shichibukai fell victim to the war."

A nod to Gecko Moria, a concealed threat, this promised to be interesting.

"No Shichibukai fell in the war," he replied cold, openly admitting that he knew about the Marines' intrigues, openly showing that he was not willing to be intimidated by hidden warnings. "What gives me the honor of your visit, even accompanied?"

The four men at the side of the politician did not move by a millimeter.

"Oh, as if you wouldn’t know, Dracule. Of course, I have no interest in you. I would like to talk to _your acquaintance._ I am certain Lady Loreen would love to keep me company today."

A sleek smile darkened his old facial features.

"Well, I doubt that anyone would like to keep you company, Eizen, but since Loreen is indeed here, she can tell you that herself."

"I am very surprised, _your Lordship_ , usually you hide your dislike for me better."

"Oh really? My apologies, it will not happen again."

Eizen laughed softly.

"You really still think you're a taker, aren't you, Dracule? Then please let me be clear: you are nothing more than a pawn, nothing more than a pawn sacrifice to be exact."

"Should a guest really behave that insolent towards his host?" Roronoa came in through the door behind Mihawk and his actually fine choice of words surprised him, but not as much as his appearance.

Except for a few strands, Roronoa wore his long hair open. In the simple white dress with grey and black appliqués, he seemed even paler than he already was, or was it just because he was not as tanned as he was as Zoro?

However, he seemed really exhausted and also slightly sickened, whether intentional or not, it would bring its desired effect.

"My dear Lady Loreen. It's been so long since we have spoken to each other.”

Eizen bowed deeply and skillfully overplayed Roronoa's rebuke.

Zoro nodded sharply. “That's probably true. I apologize for not being able to meet with you in Mary Joa."

“By all means. As I have heard, you were sick. I hope you have recovered by now, my dear."

Roronoa played his character too well once again.

“You don't have to worry about my health. Hopefully, you haven't taken the uncomfortable journey just to ask about my wellbeing."

The politician took a step into the house and his security guards followed at once.

"My dear Lady Loreen, I would like to make you a new offer and I am absolutely certain - no, I even know - that you will not turn me down this time."

His choice of words troubled Mihawk. Eizen had not corrected his words by chance, he was far too skillful for that. But Roronoa did not seem to have noticed.

"I don't think any cooperation is possible," Roronoa said directly.

Shortly he looked over to Mihawk, he obviously did not know how to get out of this situation.

Mihawk took two steps in front of his little frog.

"You heard it, Eizen. Lady Loreen has no interest in your offer. I apologize for the fact that your trip was in vain, but I ask you to leave now."

The old man tilted his head slightly and an almost mischievous smile spread over his face as he shook his head slightly.

"Oh dear, Lord Dracule. It always surprises me how confident you are in yourself. I thought I had made myself clear." He still sounded extremely friendly, but Mihawk could feel his anger. The mighty man was not used to someone confronting him, but that was the one thing Mihawk could do just too well.

"And I thought I had made it clear that I am not interested in your opinion in the least, Eizen. You are not welcome here!"

For a fraction of a second, the old man met Mihawk’s glare almost at eye level, but suddenly his aura changed when he looked at Roronoa. His smile became more real, his attitude more open.

"My dear Loreen, I understand that your _acquaintance_ is very concerned about you and wants to protect you. But I do not pose a threat to you. All I want is a short conversation only between you and me. You are not obliged to accept this offer, but at least listen to it. You do not want me to tell the five elders about this rude treatment, do you, my dear? It would be a great pity if, after Jimbei and Moria, the ranks of the Shichibukai were weakened by another member." 

"Eizen!" Mihawk growled. This was no longer a concealed threat, no hidden warning. It was pure and obvious blackmailing.

Mihawk could not have foreseen that Eizen would go as far as to challenge his title. He had already difficulties fathoming why the politician was that deeply interested in Lady Loreen in the first place, but there was no reason why Lady Loreen would be important enough for him to take such measurements, that could easily destroy his career.

It was not as if Eizen could simply determine on his own to take Mihawk’s title away, he would have to convince the five elders, offer them something in return. After all, Hawk Eyes was not anybody, not some pirate, no, even for the five elders, it would be uncomfortable if the name of former World Aristocrats were to be even more tainted.

Mihawk was quite indifferent to his legacy, but in this context, it was useful for him, Eizen would have to move heaven and earth if he wanted to turn his threat into reality.

So, the actual question was whether the other was just bluffing. Mihawk doubted whether the other had the power to jeopardize his title and whether he would really go all the way, only to be able to have a conversation with Roronoa. 

For a moment it was quiet and then Roronoa had lowered his gaze.

_It is a hoax. Do not fall for it!_

"Well, my dear? Can you spare me a few minutes of your precious time?"

The enchanted woman looked up.

"Mr. Eizen," Roronoa said coolly. “If you would like to follow me to the library."

"What in...?" He grabbed the other’s arm.

"It’s alright, Mihawk. He just wants to talk. I'm not obliged to do anything.”

But the way the other looked at him made it very clear to him that the younger one did not want to risk anything. The other would not risk his title.

Damn it! Why did this child think that Mihawk needed to be protected by him?!

"Please, be so kind and ask Perona to serve some tea."

"Eizen!" He snarled at the politician, knowing far well that he could not argue Roronoa out of his decision. "If you dare to lay a finger on..."

The old man laughed.

"Oh, Dracule. Please, unlike pirates like you, I do not think that violence is an effective solution. But if it calms you, my men will wait with you. I think we all agree that a frail old man like me is not a great threat to a young woman in her prime."

Then he turned to Roronoa.

"Please, my dear. Show me the way."

Once again Roronoa looked over at him, then turned around and walked through a door to the left of Mihawk. Eizen immediately followed him, a victorious, almost grotesque grin on his lips.

"Just a pawn sacrifice," the politician whispered as he walked past Mihawk, who clenched his fists.

From the other side of the door he could hear the ghost girl talking: "Milady, my apologies, but the library is in that direction. May I accompany you?"

Her voice sounded deeper than usual, almost grown up. The choice of words of the brat surprised him even more. If Mihawk had not known that it had to be her, he would not have recognized her.

He turned around.

"You can follow me or wait here," he offered to the politician's bodyguards, walking away. Their harsh steps followed him.

Arriving in the fireplace room, he took the newspaper from the dining table, even though he had already read it in the morning, and sat down on his armchair.

"Do not touch anything!" He said to the heavily built men, who were visibly impressed while inspecting the large hall. It may not be Mary Joa, but it was impressive, nonetheless.

He pretended to read, but in truth he was on absolute alert.

Of course, Eizen’s danger was not in his fighting technique, but that just did not calm him down a bit.

He was just hoping that Roronoa would not let himself be lulled in, not let himself be taken by surprise. The youngster had no idea about political stage plays. On the other hand, Roronoa had been able to defend himself quite well during the Marine ball. Perhaps his concern was unfounded.

After a few minutes, the door opened and the ghost girl came in, pushing a tea wagon in front of her.

Her sight surprised him. She had her pink hair braided back and wore a long black dress with ruffles and cross embroidery. Like a typical maid, she wore a hood and apron. He would not have recognized her. It was not quite as neat as Kanan would dress, but it was far more decent than he had expected this girl to look like.

She handed him a cup and offered tea to the men as well, who all refused.

Afterwards she stood at the door and waited. Mihawk realized that she had recognized the danger of the situation, and although she would probably never admit it, she too seemed to worry about Roronoa. 

It was the first time he was not annoyed by her. For the first time, he felt they had the same opinion.

He nodded to her briefly and then sipped his tea, which fortunately was not quite as sweet as he had feared.

-Zoro-

Quietly, the door of the library fell close behind his back. He was hot, whole streams of sweat chased down his back.

He didn't trust the man behind him at all, and that Eizen had just threatened to deprive Mihawk's title didn't really make it any better.

But he had already been able to get rid of Eizen twice, had already been able to retract his offers twice; he would do it a third time.

Zoro put on a smile and turned around.

"Well, Mr. Eizen. We are among us as you wanted."

"Indeed," replied the elder, smiling at him as well, "thank you for your courtesy."

Zoro would have preferred to punch him right now.

“I want to make it clear that I only agreed to this conversation because you left me no choice. I absolutely agree with Mihawk, you are not welcome here."

The old man laughed quietly, and his steps echoed through the room as he approached Zoro.

"To hear such words from you is very hurtful, my dear. Nevertheless, I hope that we will find a consensus."

Whatever the old man meant by that.

"We should sit down," Zoro dodged, pointing to a round table with several extravagant chairs.

At that moment, the door opened and Perona came in. Her big, round eyes stared at him, they briefly hustled over to the politician and he could almost see a shudder shaking her body.

"Tea?" She asked clearly too loud.

“That would be kind of you, Perona. Thank you.”

She was afraid, maybe she even knew who Eizen was or she had realized how much power this man had, that he could even threaten one of the seven Shichibukai.

After Perona had given out the tea and placed a bowl of colorful cookies in the middle of the table, she hurriedly left the room.

"Who is the young lady?" Eizen asked, taking one of the calorie bombs directly.

"Her name is Perona," Zoro replied briefly.

"And she's the housemaid? A servant?" The biscuits seemed to taste good to the politician.

"No, no, she helps me in my everyday life. She's my court lady.”

Word for word, he told the lie the Shichibukai had imposed on him, without even knowing what a court lady was.

"I understand." Eizen bent to the side and lifted up a briefcase. "As much as I would like to hear more about your everyday life, my tight schedule urges me. So, let us get down to business."

"That’s fine with me."

Zoro sipped on his tea, which was bittersweet. It was the first time he was alone with Eizen and Zoro was just thinking about whether he should kill him if worst came to the worst with a book and make it look like an accident. His gaze fell on an ugly bust directly behind Eizen and smiling quietly, Zoro decided to not reject this plan directly. A dead Eizen could not suggest anything anymore to the five elders. 

The politician opened the briefcase and pulled out a white folder.

"The temporary contract, my dear," he calmly declared, handing it to Zoro.

He picked up the folder and opened it.

The contractors were _Lady_ Loreen and _Rishou Eizen_. The World Government or Mihawk were not even mentioned.

Zoro was supposed to support the politician _in organizational tasks and social events_ as it was said there on _request._ Whatever that meant. For this the politician offered Lady Loreen legal immunity and a monthly alimentation. Because of the Berry sign and the many digits behind the word _alimentation,_ Zoro assumed that it was some kind of payment. This should also be paid, even if Lady Loreen would not be requested by Eizen for months. Another addition stated that Lady Loreen was only allowed to refuse a request due to illness.

Eizen wanted to buy him.

After two lines, he knew that it was exactly the same contract the politician had already sent him more than six weeks ago and which Zoro had ignored without any further thought. Only the amount of the salary and the sickness apposition were new.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's the same contract you presented to me on Sasaki," he said, looking at the politician.

He nodded. "Indeed, I have only adjusted your value and taken your health condition into account. Otherwise it is still the same contract."

Zoro suspiciously eyed the papers in his hands.

"So why do you think I would agree to us working together this time when you couldn't convince me last time?"

The elder was silent.

"As you know, money does not interest me, and I do not need the immunity you offer. I don't see any reason why I should sign this contract."

Eizen folded his hands and put his chin on it.

“So I can't convince you to sign this contract even though it could guarantee you power, wealth, and reputation? Are you unaware of the possibilities that working with me can offer you?"

Zoro looked at him cold and sipped his tea.

"Nothing you just mentioned interests me and so I want to declare the negotiations to have failed."

"Too bad," said the elder, taking another biscuit.

For a moment, they both remained silent.

That had gone better than expected. The other had come to terms with his defeat relatively fast and in relation to the last two times he had not come so dangerously close to Zoro.

"Say, my dear, don't you wonder at all why I would like to sign a contract with you? Don't you ask yourself, why I make such an effort to come after you, invite you to a ball of the nobility, even threaten your _acquaintance_ just to get the chance to talk to you?"

Zoro assumed that the other looked at him, but through the glasses it was impossible to say for sure.

Could it be that he was mistaken? Could it be that the dangerous part of the conversation was just beginning?

Hesitantly, he placed his cup on the table.

"You once told me that I had the ability to enchant people, which wouldn't work on you. You said you wanted to use this power to influence the masses, even though I have no idea what you were talking about. But I think that's what you're talking about right now as well, isn't it?"

Smiling, the other nodded.

"Indeed."

Again, they remained silent.

“But as I said, I don't know what you mean. I don’t have that ability.”

"Lady Loreen. I want to tell you a story."

"What?" Slowly, Zoro was more than confused. He did not understand what the other wanted.

"About 70 years ago there was a little boy of a middle-class family. His grandparents had been hard-working people and had exhausted their bodies in the service of their duties. His only memories of them were those of their deathbeds. Although his father was always diligent, always tried to improve and to be of worth for the community, he had not made it very far. He barely managed to feed his family of four. One day, however, the father's wife became very ill and although the family had a doctor in the circle of acquaintances, he could not treat the mother, the medications were too expensive. So, the man of this family had spent his life and sacrificed himself for the public only to watch his wife die."

It was pretty obvious that the politician was talking about his own childhood, but Zoro didn't know why. Why did a stranger tell him his life story?

"So, the boy started working hard quite early in his life to support his father but was barely able to help his mother; there was no hope of a better life. At that time, the boy understood that only power and money are important in this world. Because with power you get money and with money you get power. But what does someone do who has neither?"

He didn't expect an answer, not that Zoro had any, he had never really thought about such things.

"One day the boy saw the mayor sharing an intimate moment with the doctor's wife and he came up with an idea. Neither the mayor nor the doctor's wife would want the community to know about their respective infidelities. So the boy continued to watch the two and gathered evidence. He then sold his silence to them and provided his mother with the necessary medicine."

"So, a happy ending for everyone," Zoro tried to end the story.

"Oh no, that wasn't the end. It was the beginning. For now the boy knew what was even stronger than power and money, namely knowledge, knowledge of secrets and longings. Everyone wants to have something or avoid others finding out something. Everyone has something that can be used against them or for which they would do anything. And so the boy came to power and money. A favor here, a secret there."

"What is your point? Your way of life contradicts my views."

The elder smiled slyly.

"You have special abilities, Lady Loreen. It is a gift that every person wants to trust you. Neither Homura nor Dracule are immune to this. They all believe you no matter what you say. Truly impressive. However, you are not the only one who has special abilities. Thanks to my gift, I can see through your spell. I know who you really are."

Zoro laughed hesitantly.

"Oh, do you?" Why did this moment feel so dangerous?

Eizen took off his sunglasses and put them aside. He fetched a monocle from his briefcase. Then the politician looked at him again, and for a moment Zoro believed that these unremarkable brown eyes flashed up in bright red.

"Of course, my dear _Lady Loreen_." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Or should I rather say Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro?" 


	21. Chapter 17 - Contract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again ;-)
> 
> Thanks for your sweet comments. I'm already doing much better, just a little bit tired ^^
> 
> With this little new chapter I hope you have a great start into a new week and I wish you all the best

Chapter 17 - Contract

-Zoro-

_He knows it!_

Zoro laughed weakly, but he couldn't even convince himself, he wasn’t good at lying, never had been.

"Excuse me? I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Eizen. Are you sure you’re alright?"

Once again, the politician’s eyes flashed red and this time Zoro could see it very clearly.

"This hide-and-seek game is not necessary. I know who you are. Nothing more than a windy pirate claiming to be nobility." Eizen's voice had changed. He sounded almost as disdainful as when he spoke to Mihawk. "I've already told you, you fit Mihawk. Neither more than the scum of society."

"Eizen!" But Zoro didn't even know what to say. What the hell should he do?

The hiding game was over, Eizen knew the truth, Eizen knew he was Zoro, and Zoro had no idea how to deal with that. He had not expected Eizen to know – especially not after even his own crew had not recognized him – and he had not come up with a plan for such a situation. He wasn’t smart enough to deal with Eizen like Mihawk probably would, he was not quick enough to come up with a good lie to cover himself within a matter of seconds. There was no way Zoro could win, there was no way he could not lose.

But no, he wasn't allowed to give in and give up. If Mihawk had taught him one thing about politics, it was that the other could claim a lot, but as long as he had no proof and Zoro did not admit anything, Eizen had nothing in his hand against him.

"Don't try to find excuses. I do not need your confirmation. I see the truth with my own eyes."

Zoro's brain still brillianted with absolute emptiness. He just didn't know what to do. He only knew for sure that under no circumstances could he admit to the other who he was.

Once again, Eizen opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of sheets. Zoro took the offered papers while the other began to speak.

"Cat Burglar Nami, orphan. Grown up on the island Kokos in the East Blue, current location: The sky island Weatheria." Eizen's words were cold.

Zoro felt sick while looking at the image of the navigator. Below her picture was written exactly what the politician had just said.

"Vinsmoke Sanji from the Kingdom of Germa of the North Blue, also known as Blackleg. Grown up in the swimming restaurant Baratié. Current whereabouts: The Kamabakka Kingdom on the island of Momoiro."

He turned for the next page. There were other sheets, each with important information about each of his friends. Some papers stated where the respective person was at the moment, others did not.

_Monkey D. Luffy, nickname Straw Hat, son of Monkey D. Dragon. Born: Windmill village on the island Dawn in the East Blue. Current location: Rusukaina_

He paused. This man knew everything. There was even written that Luffy had gotten help from Boa Hancock and that Silver's Rayleigh was with him. This man watched each of his friends.

But there were other papers behind the one about Luffy.

_Master Koshiro, Jonny and Yosaku, Corby, who the hell is Helmeppo?_

He held roughly about 30 pages in his hands, some of the faces appeared more or less familiar to him, some acquaintances on his travels, but some of them were also good friends.

But then he looked at the last page.

"This is a copy of a formal charge of treason. What will happen to the five islands of Sasaki, Sadao, Suzono, Sarue, and Suzuki if Dracule gets his title annulled? What do you think happens to him and his employees? Or to his friends? What was his name, this aspiring Rear Admiral? Cho, if I'm not mistaken, it may be that this ambitious soldier was even a pirate himself I former days."

Zoro felt freezing cold.

"What's the point of all of this? What do you want from me?"

The other smiled at him as kindly as before.

"As I said, knowledge is power. All over the world there are people who follow my orders and I get what I want. You just have to negotiate the price."

"That means you're going to kill all these people if I don't sign this contract?"

"You quickly got that one right. Bravo. If I die or give the order, all the people on these sheets will be killed within a few minutes and the original of the indictment will be given to the five elders."

Zoro's hands trembled.

"Why?" He muttered. "All this effort can't be worth the gift you're talking about. Why do you want me?"

This man had researched his entire life. From the temple in which he had been born, the dojo in which he had spent most of his life, to the people he had met on his journey with Luffy and the others. This man knew everything, and he threatened to destroy it all.

"I'm going to find use for you, my dear," the politician replied with a grin. "After all, you have impressive skills and I think you can still be very useful to me in the future."

Zoro didn't know what to do. How could he get out of this mess? He shook his head.

"This is sheer madness! What are you talking about, you can't be serious? No one will believe you and you have no evidence."

Now the elder laughed.

“You still don't understand, my dear. My word is law. Nobody has to believe me to execute my orders and I don't need any evidence, because I've known the truth from the very beginning. I might not be able to control the five elders, but even they are eager to hear my advice, so there is nothing that can stop me, definitely not some dull pirate like you."

He was inferior to Eizen, exposed in any form. Zoro's thoughts could hardly follow the words of the other, let alone figure out a plan.

"Even if we ignore my ability, you must have realized by yourself that the circumstantial evidence speaks for itself, my dear. You only need to count two and two together and even your own gift will no longer help you. You can't twist me around your finger. Admit it, I know who you are, whether you deny it or not. You, too, are nothing more than a player as long as I let you play."

The other was right, it was no bluff, Zoro could do nothing but play along.

"So you threaten to kill innocent people just because the _circumstantial evidence speaks for itself_ and I can't refute it?"

"Oh please, most of them are pirates and criminals."

"Six monks, a princess or a dojo leader I wouldn't call criminals."

He was helpless, Zoro had absolutely no choice. He couldn't even kill this bastard with the ugly bust in his back, the risk was far too high. For if it were not a bluff, all the people who had ever been important to him would be dead within the next hour. Eizen was right, he was only allowed to play along, but only to the rules that the politician came up with.

Impotent, furious, and reluctant, Zoro surrendered to the decision, which had never been in his.

"You're really insane, Eizen. Very well then, you shall get what you want. Unlike you, I will not play with the lives of others. I will sign."

"Well, you see, it is just like I told you. Everyone has a wish or a secret. I keep your secret save with me and fulfill your desire to not do anything to these people. It's a win-win-situation, my dear."

Zoro felt sick, but he didn't think about being undermined by this guy: "I assure you, as soon as I have a chance to get you for this madness, I will do just that. Remember that, Eizen, I'm not your toy. I am your enemy."

The elder laughed.

"Oh, keep ruffling your feathers, my dear. In the beginning it is always a bit tense. But you will soon learn to appreciate the conveniences of our collaboration and then at some point you will forget that I ever had to convince you."

"Blackmail. Let's not distort the facts."

The politician pulled a golden pen from his briefcase.

"Sign, my dear. Then we can all go back to our day-to-day business again. And you don't have to worry, I probably won't bother you often."

Zoro took the pen in his hand and looked at the white folder in front of him.

"Why do you even need me at all?" He murmured somewhat unintentionally, but the other continued to speak as if he hadn't heard Zoro's words.

“You can also be quite unconcerned about his Lordship, I'm not going to tell him anything about your little secret. If you sign, we can leave your _acquaintance_ in the beautiful belief that he protects a damsel in distress and does not harbor his enemy."

There it was, the small loophole that Zoro had hoped for. The other believed that Mihawk was ignorant. So there was something Eizen didn't know. So there was also something that could be useful for Zoro at some point, not that it changed anything about the bitter taste in his mouth.

"All in all, you will find the contract in triplicate, please sign each one. One is for your documents, the rest I will take with me."

"You're not going to get away with this," Zoro whispered to more himself than to the other while signing.

"Oh, my dear. Don't pretend I'm the villain. I'm just playing the game of politics. But at least I have not killed countless innocent men and women, like a certain someone in this room."

Zoro did not respond but held up two of the treaties and the documents about the people of his life.

"You can keep them. I have all the information I need."

He wanted to kill him. Rarely Zoro had felt such a desire to cut someone's throat or hit someone’s head against the marble head of some ugly old bust until either one of them would give in, presumably not the stone.

Trembling, he packed the papers and the contract into his white folder. Rarely he had felt so furious.

What had he just done? What the hell had he just done?

He had sold his freedom, Zoro had just sold himself!

No!

He wouldn't give up just yet, even now he wouldn't give up!

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he got up, a false smile on his lips.

"Don’t be too full of yourself, Eizen. I have just signed your death sentence. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But trust me that you will regret what just happened one day."

The elder also got up, packed his belongings away and put his sunglasses back on.

“I don't think so. On the contrary, I believe that we will both benefit from this contract. Always remember, knowledge is power."

Eizen turned to the door and left. He stopped at the door frame.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you again, my dear Lady Loreen. We are quite similar, we are both willing to do everything for the things that are important to us, regardless of the price we have to pay. Unlike Dracule, you will soon understand my principles. Here’s to a successful cooperation." He replied nothing and the old man continued: "You know, I really thought it would be harder to catch you. But as expected, without your watchdog you are nothing, not even a threat."

The door fell shut behind the politician.

Zoro stayed behind, unable to say anything, the white folder still in his hands. He tried to calm his breath, but it was impossible. How could he dare?

Between being desperate and mad as hell Zoro was still looking for a way, something he had not noticed to avoid this from happening, but what should he have done?

Eizen knew who he was. Had probably known from the beginning, from the moment, he had looked at Lady Loreen for the first time at the conference. From then on, he had done research, figured out what he could use against Zoro.

Zoro had stood no chance right from the start.

But what could this man want from him? All this just because people trusted Lady Loreen? Or did he go further? Was it less about Lady Loreen and more about Roronoa Zoro? Did he want to use him against his own crew one day?

No, Eizen knew probably that he would rather die than take action against his own crew. So what did Eizen really want from him?

“Roronoa?” Mihawk came through the door. "What has hap... You signed the contract?"

The other became dangerously pale, then got red-faced in anger.

"Are out of your mind?! It was a sham! He cannot just walk up to the five elders and annul my contract! Why did you agree?”

The other rushed towards him.

"Where is Eizen?" Zoro replied distractedly. Suddenly all the anger, all the panic, all the hassle in him was gone. Suddenly he felt dangerously calm.

"He left immediately, he got what he wanted after all."

Zoro still felt numb.

"I had no reason to refuse," he said coolly, looking up to the other, having a hard time to meet the other’s eyes for the first time in a long, long time. "It would have been suspicious if I hadn't accepted."

"What? What are you talking about?"

The elder stood in front of him and stared at him in dismay.

"He offered a chance and it would suit Lady Loreen to seize it to make her voice heard, to point out the grievances of the world. Lady Loreen could not reject this contract. You yourself said that I should embody her like this, I just followed your advice."

Apparently stunned, the Shichibukai turned away, shook his head, and began to pace through the room.

"Is that really the reason? Is that the truth why you signed this contraact?"

_This friendship would be no obligation, Roronoa. There is nothing you would owe me. The only thing I expect is that you will defeat me one day. And I would like you to be honest with me._

"Of course, why should I lie to you?"

The other hurried around to him.

"Then I ask you how could you be so stupid? Now Eizen has you in his hand. From the beginning, his goal was to conclude this contract with you. I do not know why, but I know he was damn serious, and you just went along?"

"Eizen is a man who does not accept a _No_." Everything seemed to move slower, the seconds lasting just a tad longer. Zoro was quite calm, just like back at that time when he had been fighting Mihawk or back on Thriller Bark when he had put his swords aside or back then, on that burning tower.

"And since when are you a man who lets himself be given orders by others. I thought you were just loyal to your captain."

"And I am! You said that it is important to know the enemy. Who could better help me to get close to the World Government than Eizen? Everything I do serves the purpose of being able to be of use to Luffy."

Why did Zoro feel like these words sounded like they could have been from everybody but him? He knew quite well that these words, these thoughts were not his. They suited Hawk Eyes, they matched Eizen, damn it they would even fit Nami or Robin, even the cook he would still trust with that, but never would he have thought he would ever say such a thing himself, so opposing to his own principles.

Was Eizen right? Was he really someone who, regardless of the consequences, did what he felt was right to protect who was important to him?

Zoro knew the answer.

Of course he was, and that's why he had just signed the contract.

So why didn't he just tell the Shichibukai the truth?

Mihawk looked down at him. He seemed a little more collected.

"Do you really believe what you are saying?"

Zoro lowered his gaze and looked away.

"Let me see the contract. You certainly have no knowledge about how such a document is structured. I can explain it to you."

He grabbed the folder more firmly.

“That won't be necessary. Eizen explained everything to me." He turned away and walked to the door. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed.”

"Roronoa?" The other stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

For a moment, Zoro looked at those fingers to his left before sighing.

"Sorry. I know it didn't go as planned. Let's just keep training tomorrow, okay? I don't want to think about Eizen right now."

The Shichibukai wanted to say something but interrupted himself before letting him go.

"All right. Go to sleep. We can no longer change what has happened. Tomorrow we will continue with your training. Try to rest for now."

Zoro nodded and sneaked out of the room.

After several corridors and stairs, he finally reached his room, buried the white folder in the depths of his closet, and then rushed to the shower. The moment the water hit his body, he broke after all.

The water caressed his cold body, trying to warm him, but did not reach him.

He slipped down the wall and hid under the jet of water.

-Mihawk-

He sat in his expansive armchair, next to him a glass of wine, a book in his hand. Roronoa had gone to bed quite some time ago. He had looked strange, somehow absent. He probably had not been aware of what he was getting into. Only in hindsight he had presumably understood what he had done.

Yes, Mihawk suspected that the boy was currently trying to understand what had happened tonight. Just like Mihawk himself back then had needed time to understand that he had sold his freedom.

Suddenly the door opened, and the Perona came in, still in a black dress but without apron and without hood.

He did not look up but tried to focus on the letters, but it was difficult.

"Does something like this happen to you on a regular basis?" The young woman asked, looking at him. “Being visited by the mighty day in and day out?"

"Because I am one of those mighty, I would say yes."

He tried to continue reading.

"I’ve cleared everything away, but don't you think Zoro wants to eat something? He didn't eat much this morning, you didn't take a break after training, and now he's gone to bed.”

"Are you worried about Roronoa? He is an adult, he can take care of himself."

She clicked her tongue angrily.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Surprised, he looked at her. How dare she approached him like that, but he liked that she immediately backed up when he looked at her.

"I just subtly tried to persuade you to look after him."

"Why should I do this? He is asleep.”

She folded her arms.

"Since he's gone, the shower hasn’t stopped running. I can hear the pipes in the kitchen."

He closed the book. He had no idea how long it took women to take care of their body hygiene, but he suspected that it should not be more than a whole hour.

"I think you should look after him," she repeated.

He looked at her. She was so annoying and definitely stepped over her line.

"Why?"

"Well, I know I would be very grateful in Zoro's place if I could talk to master Moria. A girl sometimes just needs her father."

"Roronoa is neither a girl nor am I his father."

Now she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Just go down and check on him, okay?"

Shaking his head, he got up.

"You are somewhat strange, ghost girl. Either you are brave or rather stupid to tell me what to do. You seem to really like Roronoa if you even risk drawing my wrath on you for his benefit."

"What?! No!" Outraged, she looked at him as he walked to the door. "He's an uncivilized ruffian."

"Fair enough," he replied, and left. Behind him he could still hear her whispering to the empty room, but he decided to ignore her banter. Instead, he walked down the hallways until he stood in front of Roronoa’s room.

He knocked. No reaction. He knocked again, then opened the door slightly.

"Roronoa, are you there?" He knew the answer of course, yet there was no reaction. "I am coming in now."

No one was in the room. But he could hear the water from the adjacent bathroom. Slowly he walked over. Again, he knocked on the door.

“Roronoa?”

The door opened a gap, hot, stuffy air fleeted out of the room.

"What in heaven’s...?"

He pushed the door wide open and walked in. Steaming fog obscured his view, but then he saw the other. The young man cowered on the floor of the shower, the water bounced on his lowered head, his arms leaned against his knees.

“Roronoa?”

He did not react, even in this form he seemed almost tiny in this position.

Carefully Mihawk went further in, leaving the door open a gap to allow fresh air to come in. His clothes were already moist and heavy.

Reaching the shower, he turned off the water, a few last drops soaked his sleeve.

“Roronoa!”

Unexpectedly, the younger man tore his head up, transparent pearls run down his temples.

"Mihawk," he muttered in surprise, rubbed a few short strands out of his face and tried to get up, "what the hell are you doing here?"

Mihawk turned his gaze away and felt his cheeks growing warm.

“Making sure you are not falling asleep under the shower. Did you sit here all this time?"

He started to sweat due to the humidity of the room, looking for the next best half-dry towel and offered it to the younger one.

"Come out of there."

Roronoa grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his hip.

"What are you doing down here? Why are you in the shower with me?"

For a moment he did not reply, what should he answer? That he was worried?

The younger man pushed past him and grabbed another towel.

"Eizen played you worse than you had expected, right?" Mihawk finally said.

Roronoa rubbed the towel through his wet face.

“He's a bastard and I want to cut his throat.”

Mihawk laughed quietly. "Who does not? But I still have a difficult time understanding why you agreed to his offer. Was it because of what he said? That he would speak to the five elders? Did he intimidate you in any way?" 

Now the other looked at him again. The otherwise shining green eyes looked dark and empty, somehow swollen or was that just because of the humid air.

"Would you do it again?" Roronoa asked without interrupting their eye contact. "Would you become a Shichibukai again today?"

For another time, Mihawk wondered what strange thoughts the other was pondering about. It shocked him. He had never talked about it, with no one, so for what reason would Roronoa ask him? The ghost girl was right; it was good that he had come here.

"If that would be the only way to protect the people who are important to me, then yes, I would do it today like I did back then."

The other nodded, more to himself than to Mihawk.

"Jiroushin told me what had happened then. That you saved him and your ship's doctor," the younger man said absently, turning away from him to continue to dry himself.

"Did you protect anyone today?" Mihawk asked calmly. Perhaps he would now get the answers that Roronoa had not wanted to give him earlier.

"I don't know," Roronoa whispered, "I really don't know. Maybe I just made it worse."

Roronoa sighed heavily and for a moment he seemed incredibly vulnerable, almost like a small child. But then he laughed half-heartedly and rubbed his short hair dry.

"Well, I can't change it now, can I?"

Mihawk, on the other hand, could not help but notice that the other one was definitely well built. Unlike Loreen, who resembled a tender and fragile rose, this body looked like hard work. This body was that of a man, not that of a child.

"How did those happen?" He asked, pointing at the scars the younger man had on both legs, until now he had never noticed them.

"Tried to cut off my feet," the other said with a shrug.

"What? Why?" Again, the other stunned him.

"I thought you gathered information about me. I had the choice of becoming a wax figure or cutting off my feet and keep fighting. In the end, however, it was not necessary."

Roronoa turned towards him with his eyebrow raised.

A few seconds ago he had been a broken child, now he was the self-confident, carefree man Mihawk knew again. Roronoa threw the towels to the ground.

"Why are you blushing?" Roronoa asked with a doubtingly innocent smile.

"Why are you naked?"

The younger one laughed.

"Oh, you're so prudish."

Shaking his head, Mihawk turned away.

"Say, do you have no scars?" The other asked behind him.

He turned back to the younger one. By now, Roronoa had at least put on a pair of underpants. The small necklace with the cross around his neck, Mihawk wondered if Rorona ever took it off.

"A swordsman without scars, is that even possible?"

For a moment, Mihawk looked at the big scar on the other's chest, _his_ scar. Then he sighed and took off his shirt, by now it was almost soaking wet.

He could feel the other's gaze on himself.

"It is not my body that is scarred," he said calmly.

Roronoa was still staring at him.

"Does it surprise you?"

"Oh yes," said the other with a grin, "at your age, still looking like this, respect."

One sentence was enough to upset Mihawk.

"How old do you actually think I am?"

"Old."

"Tze! Dress up and go to sleep, Roronoa. I will make you work tomorrow."


	22. Chapter 18 - Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this morning I woke up at four o'clock (yeah, I know it sucks), and after half an hour not being able to sleep I decided that it was friday and that it doesn't matter if I upload the fic before or after work, so here you go, guys, a few hours earlier than usually, but hey, it probably won't happen again, so just deal with it ;-)
> 
> Well, I will head off to work now, so you enjoy this little chapter and we'll see each other soon^^
> 
> Have a great weekend!

Chapter 18 – Plans

-Zoro-

"What the hell? What’s taking you so long?"

He stared at the other calmly sitting at the long table, reading newspapers, and having breakfast. Normally the Shichibukai should be waiting impatiently at the castle entrance, after all Zoro had been late by at least five minutes, stupid maze of a castle.

"Good morning to you as well," the elder replied, continuing his reading.

Angry, he stomped into the big hall.

"What are you doing? We wanted to train. I need to get stronger!"

Now Mihawk looked up.

"Calm down, Roronoa. We have a change of plan. You should have a seat and some food; you haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning."

"I’m not hungry! Let's get started!"

Zoro was furious.

He could not change the fact that Eizen had blackmailed him. He could not change the fact that he had signed a contract with the politician. He could not change the fact that he was now as trapped as the Shichibukai. He couldn't change any of that. He had to accept it and hope that he would not regret it at some point.

But he could change that he hadn’t mastered the Kenbunshoku Haki just yet. He was able to change that the Busoshoku Haki filled him with fear. He could change that he was too weak to defeat Hawk Eyes. He could change all of that.

So why was the other relaxing at the breakfast table, eating his stupid eggs and drinking his annoying coffee when they had so much to do?

Disapprovingly, Mihawk lowered the newspaper and looked at him.

"I made myself clear, have I not? We have a change of plan. Sit down and eat something. We are not going to train today.”

"What?! Why?!"

The other rolled his eyes and demanded him to sit down with a sharp nod.

"Sit! I will explain my reasons, but not as long as you are standing around like a wild lapin."

"Like a what?" He didn't even know if the other had just insulted him. He sat down muttering.

"A snow rabbit," the elder explained, shaking his head. “Not that this is of importance.”

Zoro pulled a plate of onigiri closer, which were probably leftovers from the day before. The elder handed him a cup of coffee.

"So?" He grumbled and began to eat. "What the hell is going on?"

The Shichibukai sighed. "Kanan called because she would like to measure you and asked you to visit so that you could try on a few things. That is why we will head to Sasaki, today."

Zoro drank his coffee. "Just because of something like that? Because of some clothes you want to go to Sasaki? How long do we even need?"

The other did not seem to let himself be put off by him.

"In my humble opinion it is not an insignificant problem that after each transformation you run around either half-naked or in clothes far too big and hence unpractical. During the training we can take this into consideration, but in a real fight you do not have that luxury."

He snorted: "And even if so, do we have to sort this out today?"

"Your impatience will not bring you any further. I have another reason why I want to visit Sasaki, which for once has nothing to do with you."

Surprised, he looked up.

"And what?"

The elder did not answer but raised the newspaper up again.

"We will be on the road for a little longer than half a day. So we are not going to arrive until tonight.” The other could not show much more obviously that he did not want to talk about his other reason.

"That long?" Zoro murmured, respecting the privacy of the other. After all, Mihawk owed him no explanation.

"What do you mean by _that long_? Hardly any ship can keep up with the speed of my coffin boat. Most ships would take almost two days. So, stop complaining."

Zoro grabbed a second onigiri.

"Maybe that’s true, but we'll be gone for at least two days, which means two days less for training."

"Tze, you and your training, training, training. Could you at least try to think about something else for just a moment and relax a bit?"

Shaking his head Zoro drank his cup empty.

"You don't understand anything at all, do you?"

The elder looked at him, but Zoro kept his eyes on his food.

"What do I not understand?" The elder asked after a few seconds of uneasy silence.

Zoro sighed.

"It’s obvious, isn't it?" He said, looking directly at the other. "You know what I can do and what I can't do and then you're surprised that I want to get stronger? That two days of more or less training make a difference to me? Why would I care about clothes when I can’t even protect my crew or my captain? How can I think about anything else than swordfighting when you’re sitting directly in front of me?"

Mihawk put a hand on his bearded chin and looked at him considering. His stinging gaze seemed to want to drill into Zoro’s mind.

"You are indeed some strange fellow, Roronoa," he finally said. “Your discipline and ambition are unmatched, yet you are a such an odd character. I have never met anyone like you."

Unimpressed, Zoro raised an eyebrow and took the last rice ball.

"Again, you talk a lot, but it means nothing," he said coolly.

Slightly grinning, Mihawk shook his head.

"It was a compliment. Your determination impresses me, but I am concerned at least to the same extent by your stubbornness. Not always is the one who runs the fastest and ignores one’s limits the winner in the end. After all, you are a marathon runner, not a sprinter."

"No idea what you mean by that, I'm a swordsman."

Once again, the elder shook his head, a soft smile on his lips.

"Didn't you use to be the same?" Zoro murmured, unconvinced. "Didn't you have a goal that you really wanted to achieve? Could you sleep peacefully when you knew that you had done nothing that day that would bring you closer to your dream?"

Zoro got up and stretched his neck. Only then he noted the other staring at him, his eyes wide open. No more trace of a hidden smile or a patronizing grin.

Shaking his head, the other got up as well.

"No, I was probably very different. As long as my bed was comfortable and my worries were small, I could always sleep gently."

Something about this statement sounded strange to Zoro, almost sad.

"Have you never had a dream?" The question had passed his lips before he had even thought about it. 

Again, the other looked at him unreadable for a moment, then shrugged his shoulder.

"I was never a dreamer, Roronoa. But enough of philosophy. We should now start our day so that we can continue with your beloved training as soon as possible."

Was the other one actually dodging his questions this day?

Shrugging his shoulders, Zoro followed the other. In the end, he didn't care, did he?

Halfway to the front door, Perona crossed their way, still in her long sleeping robe, with a teddy in her arm. It wasn't the first time Zoro met her like that.

"Are you already leaving?" She asked with big eyes.

The Shichibukai nodded briefly.

"Oh geez, then I'm all alone again. Can't I come along this once?"

"You decided to stay on your own, so spare me with your whining. However, you could use your free time to clean the premises."

Angry, she puffed her cheeks and then stuck out her tongue.

Mihawk ignored her.

"Come, Roronoa. The faster we leave, the sooner we can return."

Few minutes later, they walked through the cool forest without anyone saying anything.

In the shadow, Zoro could see the monkeys watching, but none of them even came close to them. At that time, they had attacked him without hesitation and only after a week he had been able to assert himself against them. But Mihawk seemed to dominate them without even having to try.

"It is because of my aura," the Shichibukai declared calm, as if he had been able to read Zoro's thoughts, "not many can withstand my gaze."

Now Zoro looked at the other. What did Mihawk mean by that?

"Yet I do not seem to be able to intimidate you with it," the other laughed a little more lightly and proceeded swiftly.

Intimidating? Mihawk's gaze should intimidate him? Why?

They had reached the end of the forest.

"I had not expected that you would process the collaboration with Eizen so quickly after last night," the other tried to keep the conversation going as they got closer and closer to the small ship. Zoro could almost smell what the other was up to.

"He said he wouldn't bother me often, so I just wait and use the time until then," he replied coolly, "I can't change it."

"Roronoa..."

"Don’t bother."

Surprised, the elder looked at him, while Zoro jumped on board as usual.

"I don't want to talk about Eizen, got it? I don't care about him and as long as he doesn't want anything from me, I don't want to think about him, at all.”

Mihawk sighed: "Is such a strategy of avoidance wise? I believe it would be smarter..."

"I just explained it to you, didn't I? I don't have time to think about things like that. I can't change what's going to happen, so what's the point of worrying now?"

He watched the elder as he also got on board before the small boat started moving.

"Your logic contradicts any reason. But for all I care, if it makes you happy, I will leave the subject to rest for today."

Elegantly, Mihawk threw himself on his chair, he seemed remarkably appeasing and peacefully today. Whatever he wanted on Sasaki, it had to be important for him.

"Thank you," Zoro grumbled sarcastically, squatting on the floor, "here’s to a few quiet hours."

"Roronoa?"

He looked up as the other slipped down from his throne to him on the ground. Zoro already knew this gesture and it immediately put him on alert.

"Actually, I would love to try something with you," the elder explained, now on eye level with him.

Zoro straightened up suspiciously.

"And what?"

"It is a special form of Kenbunshoku Haki and I think a quiet crossing is the perfect opportunity to teach you." Mihawk grinned slightly.

"What? But as Loreen, I already mastered it. Only in my body I still have difficulties."

"That is correct. However, I have deliberately not taught you this little thing yet, as it demands a high amount of calmness and serenity. I also believe that this exercise will help you to learn and improve the Kenbunshoku Haki faster, regardless of your form."

It seemed as if the other had always planned everything exactly. He knew Zoro well, knew how important training was to him. Like hell he didn’t understand Zoro. Mihawk saw right through him without any problems.

"Okay, I'm in. What should I do?"

The elder stretched his neck.

"I want you to look me in the eye, do not even dare to blink, and concentrate. Sharpen your senses as you have learned."

Zoro nodded and sat up straight.

"And now, Roronoa, read my thoughts!"

-Mihawk-

By early evening, they had finally reached Sasaki.

Without allowing any discussions, he had insisted that Roronoa had transformed into his female figure before delivering the youngster to an overjoyed Kanan. Now Roronoa was at her mercy while Mihawk rushed through the forest, back to the small town.

Important news demanded his attention but unfortunately his thoughts were once again unable to detach themselves from his little frog. Once again Roronoa had surpassed all his expectations and slowly but surely it bothered Mihawk how often he underestimated the other, no, it bothered him how often the other gave the lie to his assumptions.

He knew about Roronoa's talent, it literally crept out of every single pore and many technics seemed so easy for him that it was almost disgusting to watch how quickly he got better.

Mihawk did not want to be unfair, of course this boy trained relentlessly and was more disciplined than most people he had met, but that almost made it worse.

Nevertheless, the youngster had been struggling with the first steps of the Kenbunshoku Haki, to _see_. It had been reassuring that even Roronoa Zoro was under-gifted in some areas. It had taken him almost a month and a half as Loreen to learn the basics of Kenbunshoku, as Zoro he had only just begun to learn it again and had been even worse.

It was not that Mihawk found joy in Roronoa’s struggle, no, but after the story of Roronoa’s childhood, it had been somehow a relief that not everything was that easy for him.

However, this relief had dissipated a few minutes ago.

Throughout the trip, he had Roronoa read his thoughts, at least the other had tried, but Mihawk had assumed that it would take him at least another week. But just before their arrival, he had done it, unconsciously, instinctively, unintentionally.

It rankled Mihawk that Roronoa had been able to do it so quickly. Of course it only worked, because he had allowed Roronoa to read his thoughts, but nevertheless the other one should not have been able to do it that fast.

He had suggested that this was Roronoa's weakness, perhaps gifted in sword fighting, perhaps talented in Busoshoku, but evidently blunt in strategic thinking and clumsy in the application of the Kenbunshoku Haki.

But apparently, Mihawk had been wrong.

How could the boy, who needed eternities to even begin to understand rough basic knowledge, intuitively apply such a developed ability within a few hours?

Roronoa did not even understand what he was doing!

Ignorant and instinctive, he had done it, almost by accident, almost unintentionally, and yet he did it better than Mihawk himself had done it back then when he had learned it. Slowly, he wondered what would have happened if Roronoa had met his sister, the best swordfighter ever existed.

Sharak had always told Mihawk that she had thought he was more talented, that one day he would surpass her, so she had always wanted him to train with her.

He had never been the most diligent student, never the one with a burning passion. He had always written excellent grades, had been good at what his parents had expected of him, even though he had never been able to satisfy his father, and precisely for this reason he had never tried again. It had been no longer worth the effort for him.

He had never been the one who had worked hard, who had put his all into something he wanted to achieve. He had always been only the one who had achieved a great deal thanks to talent and intelligence.

And now this boy stood in front of him, perhaps a rough diamond, but all the more talented. Perhaps more talented than Mihawk or Sharak had ever been.

But the real difference between Mihawk and Roronoa was obviously this urge to improve, this pursuit for progress, that made Roronoa so extraordinary, and now Mihawk wondered how far he would have come if he had ever had this irrepressible desire.

It was not the talent that distinguished them, not the gift, but just the ambition. They shared a passion, but Roronoa was the one who pursued it tirelessly, while Mihawk simply enjoyed it.

He had finally reached the town hall. The way felt longer today than usually.

He should not think so negatively about such things. It was a good thing that Roronoa was so promising. Perhaps they would finish the basics within six months. Then Roronoa would become even better than he could have hoped for.

In quick steps he went in, only a few officials were still present, most of the offices were empty and through the windows the sun came threateningly close to the horizon.

The way was familiar to him, within a few seconds he arrived at the familiar door. Through the frosted glass, light fell on his feet. He knocked and then stepped in.

The Marine in the office sat at his large desk and seemed to be deeply absorbed by his work. It was not until Mihawk closed the door that he looked up.

"Oh Geez, hey!" Jiroushin greeted him very unprofessionally.

"Good evening," he replied coolly, and approached the other.

"I wasn't expecting you here today," the other muttered, standing up.

But Mihawk ignored the outstretched hand. From the depths of his coat, he pulled the current newspaper, threw it on the desk, and threw himself on the visitor's chair.

"What does that mean?" He demanded to know. "Smoker? Do you care to explain something here?"

He folded his arms and stared the other down.

"Speak, Jiroushin! Why did Smoker get your job? Why are you still here and not at the G-5?"

Jiroushin did not react at first, but only stared at the newspaper. The opened page showed a small commentary about Smoker's promotion and his transfer to the G-5 base.

"Have you been passed over? Do I have to get involved?" He was indeed a little bit irritated and although he always wanted to keep his emotions under control.

"You getting involved?" The other smiled awkwardly and shook his head in disbelief. "As if I would allow you to take advantage of your position just because of me."

Seriously Mihawk leaned forward while his counterpart sat down again.

"I would do it, just a word from you and I would immediately call the Marine Headquarters, correction, I would even go there today. You know that."

Now Jiroushin leaned forward and placed his folded hands on the desk.

"That’s not necessary," he said, looking directly at Mihawk.

Something about his childhood friend was different, but Mihawk could not say exactly what it was.

"You disappeared pretty quickly after the end of the war," the Marine continued, without turning his gaze away.

"Of course. I had agreed to fight Whitebeard, not Shanks. It was also obvious that he was only coming to end the war, my presence was no longer necessary."

"At the end of the day, you wanted to head to your beloved Loreen as soon as possible," the blond giggled, and now he looked just like the waggish man Mihawk knew.

"I am not here to talk about the war," Mihawk replied coolly, ignoring his friend's fantasies. Words would not help him anymore.

"You want to hear the story, why am I still sitting here? Why I’m still working here?" The other asked innocently.

"Story?" Mihawk asked.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he had already noticed that the files had piled up. Presumably, a lot of work had been put to the side by the war.

"I won't waste my time with any stories. I want to know what happened and why you were passed over."

"I have not been passed over," the blond replied calmly, "on the contrary, Vergo himself welcomed our future cooperation and was not particularly happy that I refused. He didn't seem particularly happy with Smoker as second choice either."

"You refused? Why?"

Shortly before the war, Mihawk had talked with Jiroushin about the Marine leaving the five islands, that he and his wife had wanted to start a new beginning far away from rough memories. It had been hard for Mihawk at that time to accept that he would now have another reason less to value these islands, but how could he have held it against his friend?

So why was Smoker the one who had been transferred to the G-5 and not Jiroushin?

"I want to tell you the story," the blond insisted.

Mihawk sighed at the childish behavior of his best friend: "Well, for all I care. Tell me this story."

Jiroushin got up and went over to the small counter, where there was still brewed tea.

"After the war was over and we had taken care of our wounded and fallen comrades, I received a message Lirin had left for me. She asked that I return home as soon as possible."

Jiourshin handed him a lukewarm cup and then sat down on his chair again.

"Of course, I was very worried and came home as soon as I could. I knew Lirin was anxious about me. Of course, her fear was unfounded, I may just be a Rear Admiral, but I am much stronger than most of my colleagues. Besides, you were there."

The Marine smiled slightly and Mihawk could not prevent a quiet grin. Lirin seemed to forget that Jirou was not one of the Marines’ usual minions. On the contrary, if Jiroushin were only a little bit more combative, he could have made it far. Needless to say, it was also true that Mihawk would never allow anything to happen to his old crew member. But his help had not even be needed.

"Well, whatever. So I arrived at home and she was overjoyed. We talked for hours and you know her, she was there for me."

Mihawk had no idea where this _story_ was leading. Why did the other tell him about his marital happiness? Did he want to persuade him to marry the honorable Lady Loreen? In this case, he would probably have to let the cat out of the bag. In this case, he would no longer be able to hide the truth, not even for Roronoa’s sake.

"So, we talked about the war and all these terrible things. Then I wanted to change the subject and told her that I could claim the position as Vice Admiral as Vergo’s right hand man. You can imagine how happy she was, but then she looked me in the eye and said she couldn't imagine moving anymore."

Mihawk could not prevent that this small statement made him extremely happy. At least some things would stay the same.

"After all, she would like our child to grow up the same way we could," Jiroushin whispered almost with soft tears in his eyes.

"Jirou?" His voice broke when Mihawk looked at the other.

“Hawky. We're pregnant!"

Now the other was actually crying.

For a second, he looked at the blond.

For as long as he could remember, Jiroushin had dreamed of his own family. Jirou's parents had always been on business trips and, unlike Mihawk, Jiroushin was a real family man. He had wanted to be nothing more than a father, a good father.

But many years ago, emotional trauma had caused that Lirin could no longer get pregnant. At that time, she had lost their child. 

For a long time, the couple had travelled the world, but none of the doctors had been able to help them. Now they had both reached their forties and had given up.

They had accepted their fate and were rewarded with a miracle.

Mihawk calmly got up and walked around the large desk. Without another word, he put a hand on Jiroushin’s shoulder and looked down at him.

He could sense the feelings of his former vice-captain, his happiness meant more to him than his own.

Mihawk himself had always been a man of action, but Jiroushin was a dreamer and finally his dream could come true.

"I still can't believe it, Hawky," whispered the otherwise laughing blond, "I'm going to be a father!"


	23. Chapter 19 - Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again!
> 
> I had a super busy weekend, so I'm glad I'm able to update in time, and now I will head to bed (it's the middle of the night right now and I have to get up early tomorrow^^')
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words and kudos. You guys make me really happy!
> 
> Have a great week ;-)

Chapter 19 - Change

-Zoro-

"Kanan, is this really necessary?" He grumbled, squatting on the small pedestal he had stood on a few seconds ago.

"Of course, sweety, without a doubt. How else can I sew something suitable for you?" She handed him a bathrobe with large, colorful flowers and went to the sewing table to write down his measurements.

"I don't need anything sewn. Pants, shirt, shoes. That's enough." He wrapped the soft fabric tighter around him. He would never be able to get used to standing on this podium only in underwear.

Kanan spun around and approached him, careful not to stumble over shoes and clothes lying all over the floor. The entire dressinging room of the Dracule estate was crammed with clothes and scraps of fabric.

"No, no, no," she replied with her index finger raised. "His Lordship is right. If you want to fight, you need appropriate clothes and if you take on a different shape during the fight, your clothes have to take that into account."

She looked at him seriously. But then her maternal features became warm and affectionate.

"Besides, I'm so excited to finally get to know you properly, officially."

Zoro stood up sighing. He didn’t stand a chance against Kanan's stubbornness, and he could hardly resist her cheerful smile. She was simply the opposite of Mihawk.

Less than half an hour ago, Hawk Eyes had delivered him to the old mansion. There was no other way to describe it. Shortly before they had arrived on Sasaki, Mihawk had insisted that Zoro turned into Loreen, simply because the villagers were not allowed to recognize him.

After hours filled with concentration and the sad attempt to read the thoughts of the Shichibukai Zoro had not been able to argue about such a thing, so he had done as the other had asked. Since then the other had acted off, had spoken little, very little, but Zoro suspected that it was because of this other thing the elder was dealing with.

So Mihawk had delivered him here and now he was completely at Kanan’s mercy.

After a lengthy greeting, in which Kanan had told him a thousand times how thin he had become, she had finally dragged him into the dressing room and measured him.

The task of providing him with combat clothing seemed to inspire her almost more than the ball gown she had made for the Marine ball.

Now she stared at him expectantly, as if she were waiting for a big spectacle.

"I'm not going to transform in front of you," he said cold, walking to the small side room. The disappointment was easily seen on Kanan’s face.

Halfway into the adjoining sewing room, he stopped.

"I need something to put on," he muttered uncomfortably. As a man, he would certainly not wear this bathrobe. He would rather walk around naked.

He had never cared about anything like this, his crew members had been given no choice but to suck it up. In recent months, he had always made fun of Mihawk's prude behavior. But the idea that this woman, who had changed Hawk Eyes diapers, could inspect every part of his body was a little too liberal even for him.

"Of course," Kanan laughed, offering a pair of snow-white boxer shorts.

"Um...?"

"You shouldn't need more, after all, you have to be unclothed for measuring anyway." She grinned superior.

Slightly blushing, he grabbed the shorts and rushed to the side room.

This woman was really anything but ordinary. He had never spoken to her about who he really was and yet she knew everything, just like her sister Shakuyak. These women really had something ominous about them and it was probably wiser not to have them as an enemy.

Sighing, he undressed and took a deep breath.

Since he transformed at least once a day, the growing pain was an almost familiar feeling, but still he hadn't gotten used to it.

At least, he had become faster and the transformation didn't exhaust him as much as it did at the beginning.

"Sweety, are you okay in there?" She had to stand right at the other side of the door.

"One second," he replied, leaning against the wall to calm his breath.

A quiet "Oh" from the other side reminded him that Kanan had never heard _his_ voice.

That moment was probably inevitable, so he took a deep breath before putting on the dreary shorts.

When he opened the door, he could see her gawking at him. Rarely had he experienced her being so quiet. She said nothing, her hands folded in front of her apron and just staring at him.

Slightly embarrassed, he rubbed his neck. This was almost worse than his reunion with Mihawk.

Then very slowly she nodded, nothing more.

Zoro doubted he had ever been in a similar situation and he had no idea what to do.

"Well," he finally muttered, "shouldn't we get it done?"

She still stared at him, even more intensely than before. Without breaking the eye contact, she approached him. He did not back off. He remembered only too well how she had wanted to educate him to be a graceful lady, and now he was finally able to show her that he would never be.

But while everyone liked Lady Loreen, he wasn't one to make friends quickly. 

Right in front of him she stopped, they were almost the same height. It was strange not to have to look up to her anymore.

"I understand," she muttered, putting a hand on his cheek, "this is why."

After a second, he averted his face from her touch.

She laughed: "Oh no, how sweet. You're still so young."

"Tze." He walked past her and over to the small pedestal. "I'm twenty."

Since he had stranded on Sasaki more than two months ago, so many had treated him like a small child, but he had always disliked it for he had grown up much earlier than probably most of them.

"I know." She was still laughing and turned towards him.

He did not respond. This situation was uncomfortable for him, the way she treated him, as if he were just a child, as if he were still Loreen. Didn't she know who he was and what he had done?

"My child, what is bothering you?"

She grabbed the measuring tape around her neck and followed him to the podium.

"Everything’s fine, Kanan," he said.

She looked at him with pinched eyes and approached him.

"Can we get this done?" He muttered earnestly. "The faster we finish, the sooner I can continue training."

She stood before him and looked at him earnestly before she finally nodded.

"Don't worry, darling. His Lordship will not return soon."

"Could you at least stop calling me these stupid nicknames?" He asked, almost grateful that her voice still sounded as cheerful as ever.

"Oh sweety, of course not."

She placed the tape around his waist.

-Mihawk-

He watched the Marine work. The other tirelessly took one folder after another, that broad smile on his lips.

Mihawk sighed and crossed his arms behind the back of his head.

"Could you not do that tomorrow? It is already night." He pointed to the already raven-black window behind the officer.

Jiroushin laughed softly.

"As you know, I'm not here tomorrow, so I have to finish today. But you could help me, then I would be done quicker and could go home to my wonderful, lovely, pregnant wife."

Mihawk crossed his legs.

"Tze, certainly not. I did not leave the Marines to do your job now. Lirin knows you, she will know that you will come home later."

The other raised an eyebrow and looked at him over his files.

"You could just be helpful for once in a while."

"No, I outgrew such a pitiful character trait already quite young."

"Except if it's about your beloved Loreen," the other teased.

"Oh, stop this nonsense. You are to blame for drowning in files. If you had accepted Vergo's offer, you could put your feet up as Vice Admiral." Mihawk skillfully ignored the small side-blow.

"As Vice Admiral, I will have even more responsibilities to take care of,” Jirou muttered, flipping a few pages.

"Will?" He immediately asked. "That means you still will be promoted?"

Then the other looked at him briefly before nodding.

"Due to the war, some spots have become vacant." The Marine did not sound particularly cheerful, rather depressed. "And I've been probably noticed by the upper ranks."

"No wonder, you are a far better fighter than most Vice Admirals. If you would not detest fighting as much as you do, you could have become an Admiral."

"In a battle there is no room for negotiation. You have to fight, otherwise you will be defeated."

"I agree with that."

Mihawk got up and stretched his arms.

It was good that Jiroushin got promoted finally, he deserved some recognition. He was an impressive fighter and a capable teacher. In particular, the Kenbunshoku Haki was one of his extraordinary qualities, almost equal to Mihawk. He shook his head, no, not equal, but at least quite close.

"Well, so you will become Vice Admiral, more money, better working hours. You cannot ask for more if you are about to become a father."

"You’re leaving?" Jiroushin also got up.

"To be honest, I can waste my time better than watching you work."

For a moment, they looked at each other seriously. Then Jiroushin sighed.

"For all I care, I drop the pen for today. What do you want to talk about?"

"You do not have to stop working because of me. I came here because Smoker accepted your job. My curiosity is satisfied. I will leave you alone with your files now."

He wanted to go.

"Oh, come on, Hawky. I've known you for decades and I know when something bothers you. What is going on? What's keeping your mind busy?"

Rolling his eyes, he turned around again. Sometimes it bothered him how well the other knew him. Of course, his thoughts had wandered back to his little frog during the evening. He wondered what Jiroushin would think if he heard about Roronoa's story. It would be helpful to be able to discuss Roronoa’s next steps with someone who could keep up with him.

Mihawk did not doubt his aims, yet he could not deny that Roronoa's growth within the five days he had fought with Jiroushin a few weeks ago had been bigger by far, than the theoretical training Mihawk had to rely on. He could not actually fight with the other. That was too dangerous. Mihawk fought to kill, to eliminate, and should the youngster actually manage to stir up his blood, then...

"You train Loreen? That's what this is all about, isn't it?"

He nodded after a moment.

Jiroushin had learned the Kenbunshoku Haki faster than Mihawk had himself. Of course, this did not change the fact that Mihawk was still the better one in the application. Like every art and ability, Haki had to be constantly practiced and defined. Perfection was unreachable and yet everyone aspired to reach it and Mihawk was a perfectionist. Roronoa himself was close to learning the basic use of Kenbunshoku, in the years to come he would have to strive for perfection.

"She's good, isn't she?" Jirou grinned and dropped back on his armchair. Mihawk did the same. "I noticed when I worked with her. Very talented."

And how talented Roronoa was. Perhaps it would make sense to include Jiroushin again. But that was impossible. Roronoa’s problems were connected to his true form and in this he was not allowed to face Jirou. But what would his childhood friend say if he knew that it had taken Roronoa less than a day to read thoughts? Even if it had happened by chance.

"You have no idea," he agreed resignedly.

"However, I was very surprised that she is still with you. Didn't she want to join the straw hats?" He looked at the Marine, who thoughtfully continued: "That's at least how I understood it. She told me that she wanted to meet the straw hats and couldn't stay because she had to protect someone. I didn't ask any more questions, but I thought she wanted to travel with them. Is it because she got sick?"

Mihawk shook his head.

"No, to be honest, I was just as surprised as you are. But I promised to continue training this child. In the end, that was for the best, because now the straw hats are gone"

The other nodded half-heartedly.

How could Jiroushin not have seen the obvious?

He was clearly too close. Sooner or later, he would find out who Lady Loreen really was. So far, his mind and logical thinking hindered him. He still avoided contemplating the impossible, but he would not need much longer.

But what would happen if the other knew the truth?

Jiroushin was nobody, to quickly drown in anger. On the contrary, not for nothing he was also known as the _peaceful warrior_. But back then, after the fall of the G-6, he had been easily irritable, and had even attacked Mihawk in an ill-considered moment.

What would Jiroushin do if he faced Roronoa? 

"Do you know what I noticed?" The blond looked at him with pinched eyes. "You rarely call Loreen by her name. When you talk about her, you usually say _this child_ or _my disciple._ You never say _she’s doing well_ or _I wanted to keep training her_ _._ As if you would avoid naming her."

"Really?" He replied.

And what would Mihawk do if Jiroushin would attack Roronoa? 

No matter in which body, Roronoa was no match to the soon-to-be Vice Admiral just yet. Even if Jiroushin would initially want to persuade him to give up, this negotiation would fail. The youngster would not let words stop him.

There would be a fight, because how could Jiroushin let the one who destroyed the G-6 get away with it?

So, what would Mihawk do? Would he stand idly by or would he stand up to his best friend?

"I don't understand, Loreen is important to you. You do it consciously, right? But why?"

Jiroushin asked the wrong questions.

"Stop brooding over nonsense, Jiroushin. I do call this child by a name, but not the one you would expect and definitely not in your presence. You probably would not be able to cope."

"What? Why?" Curiously, the other leaned forward, gradually rolling with his chair around the table and towards Mihawk. 

Mihawk grinned evil. He could not tell Jiroushin the truth, but he was very good at deceiving others if necessary.

“I won’t tell you. You will misinterpret my words and I would like to prevent that."

The Marine had almost reached him.

"Oh, come on! What do you call her when I'm not there?"

He knew exactly how to steer this conversation into less dangerous waters, it would be unpleasant, but at least he could hide Roronoa's identity.

"Well, by all means. But that remains among us, understood?"

Suddenly the other was deadly serious, of course Mihawk’s tactic worked.

"Promised!"

"Neither Kanan nor Koumyou."

"Promised!"

"Not even Lirin either."

"Fine."

Sighing, he leaned forward and whispered in the other's ear: "My little frog."

"What?!" The other jumped up.

Very well, he had successfully sidetracked his best friend.

"Would you please calm..."

"You wanted to distract me!" Irritated the elder stared down at him. "You would never say anything like that, you don’t like using nicknames. Weak attempt, Hawky."

Groaning, he leaned back. "Jiroushin!"

"Don’t _Jiroushin_ me. What's really going on?"

He could withstand his friend's piercing gaze too easily while the other was still standing in front of him.

"Would you fight me?" He asked straightforward. Well, then he had to take another route.

"What? Of course, we have fought with each other many times. Where does this...?"

"No, you misunderstand. Would you take off the gloves? If we have opposing opinions and there will be no agreement, would we become enemies in doubt?"

“Hawky?" Slowly the other sank back onto his armchair, his eyes wide open, absolutely dumbfounded. "What are you talking about? We can always talk about everything. There is always a way."

Yes, Jiroushin had always been the one who had debated everything, who had spoken even when there had been nothing more to talk about.

"It surprises me that you're even thinking about it." Now Jiroushin sounded as happy again as always. "Since when do you worry about something like this?"

Surprised, Mihawk looked up.

"The Mihawk I know doesn't care what others say. When someone stands between you and your path, you usually don't care who that is. I know how you work; you don't care for long discussions. I would of course try to stop you if I thought you were wrong, but I will never be your enemy, even if I can't persuade you for the right path."

He looked at his friend for a long time. Jirou was right. That was how their friendship worked, had always worked.

Mihawk had made his own decisions, had mostly taken into account his friend's words, but in the end each of them had always made their own decisions. However, he had never wanted to make any decision for Jiroushin.

Mihawk had not been the one who founded the crew. By the time he had left the Marines, the other had followed him without his knowledge and will. Jirou had been the one who had gathered the others around them, Mihawk had simply accepted it, he had been the captain, but Jirou had always decided who was allowed to join their crew. Mihawk had been relatively indifferent to this, as long as they were among the best in their respective activities.

They had been a good team in the past.

"But what if I have to oppose you, Jiroushin? What if you are so angry that no words reach you and I can only stop you like that?"

"But Hawky, what about all these _what ifs_? You're really acting weird today, and I’ve been with you during that phase, when you thought it was a smart idea to beat Benn Beckman in shooting. You know you can always talk with me about everything. Why should I act so hastily that you have to attack me? " 

The other was still grinning.

He was right. Mihawk was in a strange mood. His thoughts simply did not leave him alone.

It was difficult for him to know that this situation could occur – Jiroushin facing Roronoa in his true form – but that he was not able to say with certainty how it would turn out. Why was he unable to estimate what would happen? Why was he not able to assume how Jiroushin and he himself would behave, let alone Roronoa? 

It did not suit him! It did not fit that Mihawk did not know what was going to happen.

But he knew that Jirou's happiness was more important to him than his own.

He stood up decisively.

"You are right, I am not myself today. I am sorry for bothering you wit my strange thoughts and do not worry. I shall take my leave now."

Apparently surprised by the change of topic, the blond also got up.

"If you need a break from your wife or work, you are always welcome on Kuraigana. My little frog would certainly be happy about practicing with you."

Jiroushin laughed: "Stop it, drop the act, I know you would never call her like that. You don’t like such signs of intimacy. But thank you for the invitation. Are you sure you will be okay?" 

Mihawk nodded and walked towards the door, but then he stopped and turned around again. The other leaned against his desk.

"Jiroushin?"

"Hmm?" The Marine looked at him vigilantly.

"When the day comes and I oppose you, please let my words reach you."

The green eyes of the other grew big.

" _When_ the day comes? That's no _what if_ anymore." He sounded deadly seriously.

"No, it's not," he replied, raising his hand as a greeting, and left.


	24. Chapter 20 - Pirates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I'm sorry, I know I'm late. Life is busy right now and I haven't been online for a couple of days, on top of that I have an important appointment tomorrow morning, so after posting this chapter I'll be going straight to bed to catch some much needed sleep^^'
> 
> Because of all of that I have not been able yet to reply to your lovely comments, but I have read them and probably more often than I should ;-) I will answer them as soon as I have time^^
> 
> The next chapter will be on time (promised) and I feel bad for letting you guys wait, especially with this chapter here, because it was not an easy one for me. Just FYI there will be something at the end of the chapter you might recall, if you have read the prequel, but just in case, I will drop the link at the end, so if you want to fresh up your memories, you can do that (and maybe that will avoid/solve some questions) ;-)
> 
> I hope you guys are having a great weekend and I can't wait to show you the next chapter on monday!
> 
> See you^^

Chapter 20 - Pirates

-Zoro-

"Now, the wrists are all that is left and then we’re done."

"What? I just need something to put on and not a tailored suit."

The housekeeper's dark eyes flashed at him furiously.

"Not yet. But who knows, maybe you need one next month and then I must have your measurements one way or another, sweetheart."

He blushed because of the nickname.

"I doubt I would ever need something like that, and even if I would, you'd still insist on measuring me again, wouldn't you?"

"But that's just because your body is constantly changing. You're still so young, you’re still growing. Especially as Loreen your chest and thigh measurements have already increased so much compared to two months ago. "

Zoro rolled his eyes. Disagreeing with Kanan was hopeless. He pulled his hands away after she had measured both wrists.

"That's just because some muscles grow due to training. Can I get dressed now?" He grumbled in a bad mood as she rushed over to the small sewing table to write down all the measurements.

"Of course, of course, little one. But please stop looking so grim."

"I can't do anything about it, that's my face," he said, moodier, reaching for some trousers that were placed over a clothes rack. "Accept the facts. I'm not your sweet princess.”

"These pants will be too short for you, darling. The black ones over there will fit," she replied calmly, pointing to another stack of trousers with her pen.

Without replying, he walked over and pulled out the only black pants from the pile. He didn't even ask why she had so many clothes lying around here. Unlike usual, this room was incredibly messy. Perhaps she had wanted to use the absence of the landlord to sort things out.

"And you can stop marking the strong man in front of me," she continued cooler now. "I knew from the beginning who you are, and I don't have to treat you any different just because you suddenly think you have to act like an uneducated caveman."

Her voice sounded somewhat scolding, as if she were far from satisfied with his behavior. It was annoying. With a quiet sigh, he put on the pants.

"You should stop trying to educate me. I'm a pirate, have you forgotten? I'm a criminal, so stop treating me like a child!"

Now she turned to him, raised an eyebrow, her hands on her hips.

"And that's supposed to impress me now? I raised Dracule Mihawk, nothing you've ever done or could do can shock me. What you do out there in the world is your thing, but I'm the housekeeper, as long as you're at this mansion, my laws apply."

He folded his arms and could feel his temples starting to pound.

"I like you, Kanan, but don’t test my patience. Don't try to change me and stop thinking of me as someone I'm not and don't want to be.”

Apparently unnerved, she groaned and turned around, shaking her head, and began to rant under her breath. With furious movements, she collected the scraps of cloth lying around.

"Fine," she said and turned around, "fine, now that this is clear..." She took a deep breath and immediately the maternal smile slid back over her face. "Very well. So, my dear child, let's get you dressed."

Zoro took a step back. Her sudden change of subject and mood troubled him.

"I can do that on my own," he murmured.

"Sure. I saw the photos of you in the newspaper, my dear." Now she sounded almost like usual, as if they hadn't fought just a second ago. "Always wearing some unbuttoned shirts, combat boots and then this ugly haramaki. This is nothing a man your age should wear. This friend of yours, the blond, who is often wearing a suit..."

"Don't compare me to the cook!" Kanan continued to pick up clothes while Zoro watched her unimpressed, his arms still folded. "And no matter what you say, I need my haramaki for my swords."

"But it looks so horrible, not even talking about the color. You really have no sense for fashion at all, sweety."

He sighed: "That's not what it's about. It must be comfortable and functional. I don't care if you like it or not.”

Unimpressed, she looked at him.

"Well, fine with me, a haramaki. Tze, just as stubborn as his Lordship."

"As if that would surprise you."

She sighed heavily and stopped in her activity.

"No, unfortunately, this doesn't surprise me at all. His Lordship had already warned me that I would probably not convince you. That's why I've prepared something."

She grabbed the stack of trousers that Zoro had previously helped himself from and carried it into the adjoining sewing room.

With both hands, Zoro rubbed through his face and settled on the small pedestal. Kanan could be quite exhausting. Compared to her even Perona was tolerable, who at least could be silenced.

He wondered how long Mihawk would still take for his strange activities, Zoro wanted to go back to Kuraigana, he wanted to continue training. He was not allowed to waste any time.

His nerves were on edge and his temples hurt slightly. He was tired, but at the same time he felt this inner urge within him, which always woke up when he was not pursuing his goal determined enough.

Why was he here in the first place?

Kanan came in again, in her hand a haramaki that looked just like Zoro’s old one used to.

"I made it myself and, because I didn't know what material yours was, I took the best yet most robust fabric I could find."

For a moment, he looked at the haramaki in her hands, and for a strange second, the pressure within him disappeared.

Somehow the situation touched Zoro. It was as if this garment, which seemed so insignificant, was part of his identity. When he got up and took it, he noticed that it felt softer, lighter, yet stronger and ruggedized.

Now the housekeeper smiled.

“I didn't have your measurements, so I don't know if it fits you. Maybe you'll try it on briefly and I'll fix it."

Zoro just nodded and pulled it over.

"Like a glove," Kanan whispered, inspecting him from every angle.

"Can you add some straps for my swords?" He asked, ignoring her plucking fingers.

"Of course, sweety, of course. No problem at all.”

"And Kanan." She looked up to him. "Thank you."

She smiled softly.

"For you always, my child."

Then she turned around and rushed through the room.

“I've got you two more pairs of boots, so you don't always have to run around in the same all the time. I also bought some new underpants."

"What?"

Kanan came back with needle, fabric, and thread.

"Of course. The same ones his Lordship has. There is only one universal size, because the fabric adapts perfectly to the body. They cost a fortune, but there's nothing better for sporty activities and by the way, you never have to worry about your boxer shorts not fitting you as Loreen."

Zoro recalled a long gone morning when he had found the drunken Shichibukai in his room back then here at this mansion. Back then, Mihawk had not worn more than some black, tight-fitting shorts. However, that morning had caused him far greater problems than the concern for underwear, a wasted teacher, for example.

Kanan knelt in front of him and sewed on the requested straps.

"That's really kind of you Kanan, but I think I don’t need them. That's not quite my..."

"Child, we won't discuss that. Believe me, once you’ve tried them on, you don't want anything else."

Zoro sighed: “Whatever."

"So, already done." She got up and inspected her work.

Zoro nodded in appreciation and stepped down from the podium.

"But somehow we still haven't gotten far with your clothing problem," Kanan muttered dissatisfied, "we couldn’t fix much more than your underwear."

"Don't worry about that, Kanan. This here," he pointed at his haramaki, "is enough."

"You’re truly one of a kind," she said, shaking her head. "Well, you want some more shirts, too? I assume it should be something simple."

A grin crept onto his features.

"Yeah, a simple T-shirt is enough for me."

She nodded and walked over to a clothes rack.

"This one should fit." She took a simple white shirt and came to him, but suddenly her eyes got almost sad. Zoro could see her looking at him with pinched eyes and biting her lower lip.

"What’s wrong?" He asked, taking the shirt.

She shook her head. "Oh, nothing."

He shrugged it off and pulled over the top. If she didn't want to talk, it wasn't his problem. On the contrary, this whole drama annoyed him incredibly, whether Nami, Mihawk, or Kanan. So, if she didn't want to talk, he would definitely not push it.

"Just," she continued, still looking at him, "this scar looks terrible and it must be horrible to carry this memory on your own body and never be able to forget."

He stopped moving and looked over to the housekeeper.

"Does this scar disgust you?" He asked calmly after a moment.

"Oh no!" She answered immediately, raising her hands appeasingly. “That's not what I meant. This wound just seems to have been very painful."

"Yes, it was," Zoro agreed, thinking back to that day that had changed his life. The day of his greatest defeat and at the same time the day when he had renewed his promise. That day he had become someone else. Until that day he had been willing to sacrifice his life for his dream. After that day, he had understood that he had to live to fulfill his dream. It would have been too early for him to die and this scar kept reminding him every day. Since that day he had wanted to live to achieve his dream.

But for the dreams of his friends, for their lives, he had been willing to sacrifice all of this. Zoro had sacrificed his life for his friends.

Suddenly, the throbbing annoying his temples grew stronger. His view got blurry for a second and he had to take a step back to steady his balance.

"Well," Kanan continued, who didn't seem to notice anything, "when I see this scar, I just wonder what kind of monster you must have encountered. What kind of person would do something that horrible to another human being?"

Zoro grabbed his head, tried to ignore the pounding.

"But Kanan, this scar...," he began, but he was interrupted by an opened door.

"You may speak of me, Kanan." The best swordsman in the world came in, a cold expression in his stinging eyes, immediately meeting Zoro's gaze. "After all, I was the monster Roronoa encountered and I was the man who did something that horrible to him." Yet his words sounded anything but angry or harsh, somehow, they made Zoro proud, but with his headaches he was probably just imagining it.

The door fell shut behind Mihawk.

"But your Lordship?!" 

Zoro could hear the housekeeper's almost shaking voice, while black dots danced in front his vision. He lowered his head as the world around him got blurred.

"You want me to believe that you did that?"

"You surprise me, Kanan." Mihawk sounded calm but also dismissive. "I thought you know everything. Of course, it was me. I am known for my merciless and ruthless behavior, why does that upset you so suddenly?"

Zoro dropped down to the podium. Something was wrong here, but he didn't know what.

He was not at all interested in that conversation. But their words were so clear and penetrating that he heard them over the throbbing in his head, had to hear them, could not ignore them.

He had been sleeping badly for weeks and had often woken up with headaches, but during the day they had mostly left him alone. So why now?

"So, you want to tell me that beside this innocent child, you have branded other people with the cruel memory of their defeat?" The housekeeper sounded truly shocked.

Zoro wanted to note that he was anything but an _innocent child,_ but Mihawk was faster: "No, Roronoa is an exception. But that is simply because my enemies usually do not live long enough to recover scars from the fight." The words cut through the air like cold ice.

Kanan did not answer anything, but Zoro could hear her quick breath. Several times she started to say something but stayed quiet in the end. He wondered what she was thinking. He had never heard her lost of words. He couldn’t hinder a quiet laughter, which hurt his throbbing head even more.

"Roronoa?" Only now did the elder turn to him, not that Zoro cared.

"Didn't you just say that nothing could shock you, Kanan?" Zoro rubbed his temples. The light of the room blinded him.

"Is there something wrong, Roronoa?" Mihawk asked.

"That's something else," Kanan replied huffing. "I know what you're doing out there and it doesn't surprise me."

Zoro closed his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing pain. He could not remember ever having such headaches.

"Still you are reacting anything but composed," Hawk Eyes remarked, and heavy steps echoed through the room. Next to Zoro he stopped and his familiar scent filled the air. "Roronoa, are you alright?"

"I don't care what you do out there, your Lordship, and I will always love you like my own son." The older woman hesitated. “However, I don't know if I can forgive you for having forced such a stigma on this child who means so much to me.”

It was quite quiet in the room, no one said anything anymore.

Zoro knew the other two were facing each other, right in front of him. Kanan to his right and Mihawk to his left.

Slowly, the pain in his head faded.

"Roronoa." The Shichibukai sounded as rational as ever. "If you have everything you need, we should leave. This way we ca continue training at sunrise, making you lose only one day."

"But your Lordship! I didn't want to..."

"Calm down, Kanan." Once again, the steps of the swordsman echoed through the room. "I respect your views and it is your right to disapprove my actions."

"But Sir, I..." Kanan sounded almost desperate.

“There is no need for you to explain yourself. It is alright. I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me, but even if not, it will not change my opinion of you. Rest assured that I always appreciate you. Roronoa, please transform yourself. I will be waiting downstairs.”

With a quiet click, the door fell shut. Zoro got up and opened his eyes. Only a few black dots danced in his field of vision. It still felt like the Shichibukai was standing right next to him.

Like frozen Kanan stood in the middle of the room and stared at the door, her hands still half outstretched for someone who had already left long ago.

Zoro sighed.

"Kanan." She swirled around to him, her eyes wide open and glassy. "We are swordfighters, different rules apply to us. We are also pirates, we live in a different world."

"I know that. I didn't want to drive him out of his own home."

"I know." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for your care."

Then he turned around and collected the things she had provided for him. His headache nothing more than a dull memory.

“But you should forgive him. This scar should not burden you."

"But my child. He branded you."

He looked over at her. Lost in thoughts, he touched the upper end of his scar.

"No, you're wrong. He marked me, he didn't brand me, and it's only thanks to this scar that I'm who I am today.”

"I don't understand you," she whispered.

“That's because you see only pain and a memory of defeat in this scar. But for me, it's not. In this scar I see Mihawk's recognition of my abilities and the promise of victory."

Doubtfully, she opened her mouth.

Zoro grinned and rubbed his neck slightly embarrassed.

"There's a reason why I always wear unbuttoned shirts, you know?"

When she still didn't answer anything, he shrugged, grabbed the clothes he had come for and went to the adjoining sewing room to transform himself.

When he came out again as Loreen a few minutes later, the housekeeper was still standing in the middle of the room.

"You're really so pretty," she whispered when she noticed Zoro.

He threw the backpack over his shoulder with his new clothes and boots without replying. Maybe she would never understand.

As he stood in front of Kanan, he allowed her to hug him.

"Child, can I ask you for something?" She asked earnestly.

"Sure." He freed himself from her strong embrace and looked at her with half a smile.

"Please watch out for him, can you?"

The tears were still shimmering in her eyes.

He nodded earnestly.

"Of course. I'm not going to let anything happen to him, after all, I want to defeat this bastard."

"But no such words!"

"But such words. See you soon, Kanan." Grinning, he said goodbye and rushed out.

The tension between Mihawk and his housekeeper did not please him, as Loreen he was able to feel it even more clearly and he was grateful to be able to leave the old mansion quickly.

Arriving downstairs, the Shichibukai was already waiting for him. Mihawk briefly looked at him as he came down the stairs. The elder had been waiting in the hallway and had already put on shoes, coat, and hat. Zoro quickly followed his example.

A few seconds later, they walked through the dark forest.

"Are you doing well?" Mihawk asked into the silence. "You seemed to have a headache."

Zoro shrugged. "It’s fine."

Again, they were silent. Should he ask? Should he dig deeper? Or should he simply leave the other alone.

"Sure? Or have I demanded too much from you during our journey?" Mihawk sounded as calm as ever. “Headaches are no uncommon side effect in the beginning.”

"As I said, it’s fine," he muttered again, sighing softly.

"I apologize if my dispute with Kanan has unsettled you. Rest assured she will calm down soon," the other said.

Shaking his head, Zoro laughed quietly.

"Oh please. That's your trouble, it has nothing to do with me. But you left the room quite in a hurry."

The elder was right behind him.

“I did not leave in a hurry, Roronoa, but it makes no sense to talk to Kanan when she becomes emotional. Believe me, you were not our first point of disagreement and this one as well will not burden our relationship in the long term."

"Well, if you say so." He doubted that Kanan was the only one at fault.

By now they had reached the village.

"Of course, it would be quite different if Kanan were right and this scar would be no more than a horrible memory for you." Mihawk did not look at him but directed his stinging gaze straight ahead.

Zoro looked at the elder, tried to read in his facial expressions what Mihawk was telling him, but the shadows of the night made it impossible.

Suddenly the hawk eyes did stare at him.

“Tell me, Roronoa, is Kanan right?”

They had stopped, around them the silence of the village, only interrupted by the quiet flow of the fountain. It was in the middle of the night.

"I thought you know me," Zoro finally replied, and continued.

"That is no answer." The Shichibukai followed him.

Now it was Zoro who looked ahead into the distance.

"I'm glad to have my old body back," he muttered as they left the village, "otherwise I'd probably have lost that scar forever."

When he looked up, he thought he could see the elder's eyes widening a trace.

They had reached the small harbor and in consensual silence they walked along the pier to the familiar coffin boat. Like a well-rehearsed team, Zoro got on board while Mihawk untied the ropes.

"By the way." Zoro stretched and tightened his coat. "Why did you really want to come here? Where were you all evening?"

The Shichibukai shrugged his shoulders and came on board as well.

"I just had to discuss something with Jiroushin. Nothing world-shattering." But he sounded unusually soft.

Zoro settled on the ground.

"I would love to rest for a while, Roronoa. Would that be fine with you?"

The Shichibukai yawned extensively. The boat started moving.

"Just do it. Can we continue training tomorrow?"

"Of course, that was the deal." Mihawk pushed back the throne.

“Roronoa?”

They looked at each other.

"Yeah?"

The elder waved it off.

“Nothing. Just try not to do anything stupid."

"Look, go to sleep, you talk nonsense."

Shaking his head, the elder went under deck.

Zoro looked at the stars in the sky. Everything was quiet.

_"You're not dead yet, traveler. Not yet."_

Surprised, he straightened up. What kind of voice had he just heard? But there was no one there. Had he just imagined it?

_"Humans, who died for a selfless reason and don’t regret dying but their mistake that made them die, receive a chance to continue their life."_

There! Again! Where had those words come from? They didn't make any sense at all, and yet Zoro had this strange feeling of having heard them, sometime a long time ago.

_"You will either find a place you need to find in order to learn what you need to know or you will find a person, who’s destiny it will be to change you."_

Suddenly, his headache was back, even stronger than before.

_"So go ahead, Roronoa Zoro. Return into your life and learn from your mistake. Regret nothing and live your dream."_

He stared up at the stars and then it got dark around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the link to a specific chapter of the prequel ;-)
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/8821165/chapters/28169067


	25. Chapter 21 - Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! 
> 
> As I promised, back on time (luckily^^'), as you probably noted, we slowly start to connect some things (unfortunatly rather by questions than by answers). In case something confuses you, don't be shy to ask, I will explain (or tell you why I won't ;-P)
> 
> One way or another, I hope you'll enjoy the upcomming chapters, I know I will ;-)

Chapter 21 – Pillow Talk

-Mihawk-

After a few hours of restful sleep, he woke up.

With a quiet smile, he stretched and got up. Rarely had he felt so recovered after a brief nap.

The short stay on Sasaki had been quite revealing. If one ignored the small confrontation with his former nanny even quite successful. He could be really happy with the recent events. Roronoa developed magnificently, Jiroushin had managed to be promoted and his dream came true.

Mihawk was a little worried that his future conversations with his childhood friend would cover only baby food and diapers, but he was more than willing to pay that price.

He sighed again, through the small window at the head of the bead he could see the already enlightened night sky; the morning could not be far away and accordingly Kuraigana could not be far away either.

So, it was time to check on his stubborn student.

But when he arrived upstairs, he found Roronoa laying deeply asleep in the middle of the deck, his long hair spread around him like a lake. Shaking his head, Mihawk wanted to wake him up, but then he noticed it.

Roronoa did not sleep, at least not like usually. Normally the young man slept on his back, either legs and arms stretched into different directions and silently muttering nonsense or quietly like a dead man, not moving at all.

But now he was just lying on the side, one arm strangely buried under his body, the other limply hanging over the middle of the body. He had not even taken off his shoes. As girl, he would have to freeze in these clothes and without a blanket, but the younger one did not seem to mind.

Slowly he realized it, Roronoa did not sleep, he had lost consciousness.

He bent down and gently slapped both cheeks, but nothing happened. Once or twice he called the other, but he did not expect a reaction and was therefore not surprised that the other did not respond.

"What happened to you?" He finally whispered, lifting the child up like a doll.

Roronoa did not move, laying lifelessly in his arms.

With careful movement, he carried the other under deck and laid him on the still warm bed. Attentively, he placed Roronoa in a lateral position and made sure that the other could breathe well before covering him with a blanket.

Then he crouched on the edge of the bed and ruffled his hair. Despite the concern, Mihawk knew he could not do anything. Since Roronoa was not asleep but unconscious, Mihawk would not be able to wake him up. He could smash his skull and the other would not react.

But Roronoa’s heart beat stable and he was breathing steadily. Only his skin seemed worryingly cool. How long had the other been laying outside unconscious? But the more important question was why the other had fainted in the first place. Physically, he seemed to be fine and nothing had happened during the past few days that would explain a sudden fainting.

Although Mihawk knew better, he shook the other slightly.

"Tze, what in heaven’s name have you done? Wake up, Roronoa."

But of course the other did not listen to him, probably as a matter of principle.

A short time later, they had finally reached Kuraigana.

Roronoa was still not conscious, so Mihawk wrapped him in a blanket and lifted him up.

On his way to the castle, no one met him, not that he expected somebody. It seemed to be an unusually good day, because the otherwise dense fog was enlightened by the morning sun, illuminating the otherwise so gloomy landscape.

The child in his arms was as light as a feather – almost lighter than the bag of clothes he had also thrown over his shoulder – and still did not move when Mihawk entered the castle.

"Zoro, Hawk Eyes? Are you back?" Perona called out almost immediately after the gate had fallen close behind him.

"I told you to call me Dracule," he replied dismissive as the young woman appeared on the other side of the anteroom. She had braided her hair into two wild braids and her pale pink dress was littered with ruffles.

"What happened?" Her round, colorfully painted eyes lay on the child in his arms. "Is he injured? Have you been attacked?"

Disapprovingly, he clicked his tongue.

"Of course not. Do you really think I would allow Roronoa to get injured by an attack?"

She looked at him with big eyes, but said nothing, and only a moment later did he realize what he had just said. He shook his head and rushed through the room.

"Stop this nonsense, ghost girl. As Roronoa and I have told you several times, these newspaper articles contain little more than a spark of truth." He walked past her. "I will bring Roronoa to bed. Please prepare tea and I would welcome some of your apple pie."

"And again, I'm not your maid."

He walked on and she followed him.

"But Hawk Eyes?"

"Dracule, it is not that difficult to pronounce."

"So, you admit at least that there is a spark of truth?"

Surprised, he stopped and stared at her. Perona, on the other hand, had an almost nasty grin on her lips and nodded knowingly as she twisted one of her braids around her fingers.

"I'll make some tea."

Shaking his head, he also turned around and moved on. It was pointless to discuss with her, she was worth neither his time nor his words.

Arriving in his student's room, he placed Roronoa on his bed. Then he looked for a chair and waited.

It reminded him of how he had kept guard at Roronoa's bed side for the first time, when he had not known yet who this fragile girl with the long green hair was; back when he had still thought that Roronoa had died once and for all.

After a while, the ghost girl showed up with tea and joined him.

"Shouldn't we call a doctor?" She asked, handing him a plate with pie.

Thankfully, he accepted.

"No, a doctor would take too long one way or another. No reason to be anxious. Physically, he is perfectly healthy, he might have caught a chill, but otherwise he is fine.”

"He's unconscious," she said sarcastically, "doesn’t look fine to me."

"He will wake up soon."

For a moment, she looked at him.

"Do you know that or do you just want to calm me down?"

He answered her gaze without any problems and made her look away.

"Stop it," she murmured.

"I am not doing anything," he smiled.

In consensual silence, they waited together and ate their pie.

After a while, however, the girl became restless. She got up and started pacing through the room, the clicking of her heels echoing from the stone walls and her braids swaying in rhythm. He, on the other hand, had taken the newspaper from the tea tray and was now reading it attentively.

"Could you please pursue an occupation that is less disruptive?"

She exhaled unnerved and sat down again, not that her rocking leg was much better, but at least it was quieter.

Sighing, he flipped another page, but he could not prevent from watching Perona out of the corner of his eyes frazzling one of her ruffles.

"It really makes no difference if you spend the meantime with something meaningful or not. Roronoa will not wake up faster just because you circle his bed like a mother hen.”

Looking up from the printed words, he noted her folding her arms and staring at him.

"How can you be so calm?" She asked a note too loud. “Zoro is a stubborn idiot for all I care and maybe he can take a beating, but in that body he's weak. You weren’t here the first few days; he collapsed every few hours when he had overdone it. But he has never been unconscious for as long as he is now."

Few ghosts escaped her body, she seemed truly disturbed.

"Maybe you're right, maybe he's fine. But what if… what if he needs help and we just sit around stupidly, waiting while he dies?"

Again, he sighed and folded the newspaper.

"Believe me when I say that this is highly unlikely. But even if this unlikely case were to occur, we could not change it. If Roronoa really needs urgent help, he is already lost, because neither you nor I can provide him with sufficient medical care in such a case and no doctor could come in time."

Horrified, she stared at him.

"Are you not even worried, not even a tiny little bit," she whispered, "or why can you stay so calm?"

Shaking his head, he got up, the ghosts rushed away and disappeared into nothingness.

"Just because you observe a situation with logic does not mean you do not worry," he said, looking down at her. It was incomprehensible to him why Roronoa had convinced him that she should stay.

This annoying girl with pink cotton candy hair and a penchant for cuddly toys and sweet stuffs had always been a nuisance for him. During training, she had often watched and had made unwanted comments. At meals or evenings together, she often created an inappropriate tension that never existed when he and Roronoa were among themselves.

Even her cooking skills had been rather a bother at the beginning, so that he had often stood in the kitchen himself – Roronoa was not allowed near the stove after he had almost blown it up one time.

He disliked her, from her loud voice to her ridiculous ghost tricks. Roronoa seemed to get along with her and she even seemed to like Roronoa, even if Mihawk did not know exactly why. However, she was mostly rude and disrespectful towards him.

But he could not deny that she had proved useful during Eizen's unexpected visit. While Mihawk himself had been on the battlefield, she had taken care of Roronoa, and he knew only too well that this was not an easy task.

Even now, she tried to help Roronoa within her means and her concern was obviously real, not faked. This girl and he had nothing in common, but at least one thing connected them.

"I assume that Roronoa will not come back to his senses for a while and I would like to use that time to take shower and change. Is it alright for you to take care of him in the meantime?"

After a second, she nodded.

"Yes sure, but..."

"I will not take long and if something happens, I would appreciate if you would inform me as soon as possible."

"Say, Hawk... Dracule why do you do this? Why are you training Zoro?"

This question actually surprised him, but he could not prevent a smile.

“He is a promising talent; it would be a shame to waste it.”

So he turned to the door.

"And while we are at it," he continued, without turning around, "you also have skills that could be used properly. However, you have not even begun to explore the dimensions of your powers and your control is far from solid."

"What the hell? How dare you..."

"You intend to return to Moria, correct? If that is the case should you not act a little more like Roronoa and a little less like you?"

He went out and ignored her curses.

-Zoro-

_You're not dead yet, traveler. Not yet._

Zoro opened his eyes.

Above him hung the heavy fabric of the canopy. He was obviously in his bed on Kuraigana.

Dimmed sunlight was caught by the old curtains and cast cold shadows on the ceiling.

"Welcome back, Roronoa."

Surprised, he dropped his head to the side. Next to his bed sat Mihawk, his legs crossed, a small book in his lap. As always, he wore a simple shirt and dark trousers, but something seemed different to him, even if Zoro couldn't exactly name it.

"What happened?" He grumbled, sitting up. His head pounded slightly, and he felt like he had after the fight against Moria, exhausted and irritated.

"I would like to hear that from you. I found you unconscious on deck."

“What?“

The Shichibukai nodded. "Three days ago."

He stared at the other.

"I was unconscious for three days?"

Again the elder nodded and then Zoro noticed it. The Shichibukai's hair was not as smooth as usual, his beard seemed more uneven, his eyes even more serious than ever.

"What is that look supposed to mean?" Mihawk asked, who had apparently noticed this observation immediately.

Zoro knew which book the other was reading without having to take a closer look.

"And you haven't slept these three days, or what?" He grumbled instead.

The other blushed slightly but withstood his eyes.

"There is no need to worry about me. Someone had to make sure you were not suffocating on your own tongue."

Zoro turned his gaze away and looked at his little hands.

"So," Mihawk asked again, "will you tell me what happened?"

"No idea," he answered honest, shrugging his shoulders.

"You want to tell me that you do not even know why you were unconscious for three days?"

Sighing, he massaged his temples and supported his elbows on his legs.

"That's what I mean," he replied rough.

"You seem to have headaches again." Zoro looked up and encountered the penetrating gaze of the Shichibukai. "Like on Sasaki, just before you fainted."

"What do you want to say with that?"

The elder got up.

"Nothing specific. It is obvious that these two symptoms are linked. But anyway, you should eat something and maybe you want to go to the bathroom." Mihawk placed the inconspicuous book on the small table next to the bed. “I will inform the ghost girl meanwhile; she was very worried.”

Zoro simply nodded. His teacher behaved exactly as he knew him. Rational and controlled, and yet Zorro could see that the whole thing occupied him more than he would admit.

However, he really didn't want to wrack his already aching brain.

"And you really do not remember anything?"

The elder looked down to him, deep lines covering his forehead.

Again, Zoro rubbed his face and then brushed back his long hair.

"I do," he muttered, "but I only remember one single word. The moment I woke up I had the word _traveler_ in my head."

Apparently astonished, the other raised an eyebrow.

"Traveler? Why?"

Zoro laughed dryly. "How am I supposed to know?"

A few minutes later, Zoro came out of the bathroom. To his surprise, Mihawk was already back, apparently reading.

The elder looked up briefly, but then continued his task, he must have read the book at least ten times by now.

Zoro had tried to transform himself, but it didn't work, maybe he was too exhausted.

He noticed the other's gaze.

"What?" He grumbled.

"Nothing," the Shichibukai replied, putting his attention back to his book.

Exhausted, Zoro dropped on the bed. It was annoying. Since he was able to transform, he had been permanently exhausted. All these confused dreams, then the headaches and now he even fainted. He didn't have time to spend unconscious in bed for days.

"Do not agonize your mind unnecessarily, Roronoa."

Confused, he looked up. Mihawk sighed and folded the book.

“It is a process your body is going through, that is obvious. Since you have your original body back, nightmares and sleepless nights plagued you. The recurring headaches and fainting are nothing more than a sign that the progress will soon have reached its peak."

Unimpressed, Zoro leaned back.

"How the hell do you know that and what is that even supposed to be? What happens when the process reaches its peak?"

The elder laughed slightly condescendingly. "Please, Roronoa, how could I know? Those are just some of my assumptions.”

"So all your talking is nothing but a shot in the dark."

The Shichibukai did not respond, but Zoro could feel his hard gaze.

"You think it's going to be over soon?" He murmured, staring at the ceiling.

"I hope," said the other calmly, "further fainting would be really hindering your training, and I can imagine better occupations than to watch that you do no..."

"Yes, yes, I got it."

At that moment Perona came in and the calm was over. She had a tray of food and Zoro realized that he was almost starving. As he ate, she argued vigorously with Hawk Eyes, who answered barely but tried to ignore her if possible.

Over their conversation, Zoro's headaches grew again, which the Shichibukai seemed to notice, because after a short time he sent Perona out and also said goodbye with the request that Zoro should take a nap.

Unintentionally, he followed this advice after a few minutes.

When he woke up it was dark. Only the small bedside lamp offered some warm light.

The castle was quiet, he could hear the wind outside the walls, accompanied by the steady breath of Mihawk and the occasional movement of paper.

It had to be in the middle of the night.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Zoro whispered, breaking that pleasant quietness and sat up.

"I am not tired," the elder replied, looking at him. "You look better."

Zoro nodded. He felt much better than before, his headaches were nothing more than a quiet buzz in the background and he could remember his dreams, they were still confusing, but somehow he felt he knew them, recognized them.

"I'm better," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I think I remember something."

"You remember?" The other asked, confused, leaning towards him. "What do you mean by that? What do you remember? Why you fainted?"

He shook his head.

"No," he said, rubbing his neck, "no, not that. I'm not sure it's all like..." He couldn’t put it into words.

"Whatever it is, it seems to be over soon," the other said after he had not spoken further. As often, it seemed as if he knew something that Zoro had no idea about.

"Until then, however, I would have a question for you."

Zoro looked at the elder, who held up the book he had just read. Zoro knew it. After all, he had written it himself or rather translated it.

It told the legends of Alciel, an ancient kingdom of warriors, destroyed an eternity ago, its descendants annihilated. According to Mihawk, there was hardly anyone who still spoke this language, perhaps no one besides Zoro himself. He had learned this language from his mother, who had already died during his childhood.

One of these stories, the legend of the swordsman Hakuryuu, had been the reason why Zoro had wanted to become a swordsman as a child. His mother had always told him this story in the past, and he had decided to translate these books for the Shichibukai, because after all, these fourteen books contained the first teachings of the art of the sword. Until now, however, he had only managed to translate the first, which contained only stories and fairy tales.

"What’s with that?" He took the little book and looked at the page that the elder had opened. "That's the legend of Hakuryuu," he muttered.

"Exactly. I noticed that the end of this story differs from what you told me at Sasaki."

He looked up in amazement. "So?"

"Well, I wonder which version is the real one."

Zoro shrugged and snorted quietly. "It's just a fairy tale, Mihawk. Everyone knows that such stories change over time and generations. My mother probably told me what she was told, maybe in other words, and who knows if I remember everything correctly. Why are you dealing with something like this?"

Mihawk did not seem satisfied with this explanation. Disapprovingly, he pursed his thin lips and stared at the book in Zoro's hands.

"I want to know the truth, as simple as that," he finally said, almost like a disobedient kid.

"The truth?" Zoro laughed quietly. "It's a fairy tale. Who knows if Alciel ever existed and who knows what is true. Why is any of this important?"

The elder leaned back and folded his arms.

"You said the youngest of Hakuryuu's disciples wrote these books, correct?"

Zoro nodded.

Mihawk sighed. "This could explain why there is nothing in the story about Hakuryuu going mad and therefore killing his father - the king. A student usually adores their teacher and is blind to their mistakes."

"Excuse me?" Now Zoro laughed with sarcasm.

"You are probably an exception."

"Oh yes, for sure."

For a second, they both grinned.

"Is that the only difference that bothers you? That the book does not say that he went crazy? This is what this whole fuss is about?"

"Did you really not notice?" The elder looked at him seriously.

“What?”

"Please Roronoa. Hakuryuu owned the Hero's Sword, forged from the tooth of a dragon. For twelve of his disciples, he had twelve swords forged from it; you wrote these words yourself."

"What’s your point?" Slowly Zoro got annoyed.

"It is obviously, Roronoa. This _fairy tale_ is about the twelve supreme grade swords. The oldest disciple received the largest and most powerful one cut from the core of the Hero's sword. This is Yoru. This is the origin story of my sword."

His mouth fell open.

"Are you serious?"

The Shichibukai leaned even further forwards, an unfamiliar fire in his usual cold eyes and a broad grin on his lips. He looked much younger than usual, like a curious child.

"Yes, I think so. I mean, it all makes sense. No one knows where the supreme grade swords came from and the material of Yoru’s Blade is unique. How could I have missed that the first time?"

Shaking his head, Zoro bit his lower lip with a grin.

"And if it's just a coincidence? Twelve is a number that is often used in old legends."

"And if it is not a coincidence?"

They looked at each other, just a few centimeters between them.

Zoro could feel it, this fire, this curiosity. He had never met anyone else who could be enthusiastic about such theories, about the art of the sword, who would stay awake at night to brood over such things. None of his friends had ever been able to understand him. Robin had sometimes talked with him about it out of sheer kindness, but it had never been one of her interests. Even Brook had politely teased him when Zoro had asked him about his rapier's history.

Mihawk had not only recognized his swords by name, but also knew their origins.

He had never told his friends about Alciel's legends, everyone knew fairy tales about heroes and warriors, Zoro had never thought that those could be special.

After a moment, he interrupted the eye contact.

"Can we continue to train at sunrise?" He whispered, and whatever tension had been in the air disappeared.

The elder laughed quietly and leaned back.

"Are you sure you will be fine by then? This morning you were still unconscious."

He just nodded and looked at the book in his hands.

"I want to get stronger," he whispered.

"Well," Mihawk replied, pulling the book out of Zoro’s fingers, "then you should sleep now and recover as much as possible. I will come up with something very special."

He seemed so much gentler than usual, so much younger. Even when he got up there was still that little smile, that beam.

"Oh, there was another difference, by the way," said the elder, folding his arms.

"That would be?"

"According to this book, Hakuryuu did not wander the world to find students, and later, he did not send them off to spread his teachings."

"Why then?" Zoro asked, wondering that he couldn't remember it. Perhaps he hadn't seen the story between all the words.

"Not only the other countries wanted to destroy Alciel, Hakuryuu himself wanted to make sure that no one from his own people would survive."

He really couldn't remember that.

"Why should he have done this?"

The elder shrugged.

"I do not know, but I think that explains why no one knows anything about Alciel anymore. When the whole world is chasing you and even your own brothers in arms want to kill you, who would talk about their background?" In the dark room, the hawk eyes flashed, reflecting the spare light of the small lamp. "Of course, this leaves one question."

"And which one?" Zoro asked suspiciously.

"How come that your mother spoke this language and knew all those things without ever being hunted?"


	26. Chapter 22 - Disturbance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again!
> 
> I'm telling you, those weeks are just rushing by and I feel like I forgot something really important to do... but I have no idea what it was (I know I went to work today, I fed the dog, I answered that mail of my friend, and right now I'm uploading the chapter like every friday... but I feel like I forgot something...)
> 
> Well, whatever, have fun with this new little chapter and thank you guys for all your kind words^^

Chapter 22 - Disturbance

-Zoro-

He had almost forgotten that Eizen had ever been there.

After being unconscious for several days and then sleeping through almost another one and a half, he had woken up this morning and finally remembered. Now his confused dreams finally made sense, now he knew what had happened after the G-6, why he was still alive and why he had landed on Sasaki of all places. He had never believed in things like calling and destiny, but now he could no longer deny that supernatural things could exist, he was the best proof, after all, he was a wanderer, whatever the hell that meant.

But Zoro didn’t really bother thinking about that stuff, after all, he had to focus on training.

Since that day he had recalled what had happened he had also been able to sleep again, had finally it seemed that he was also regaining his strength and energy. He hadn’t felt that good for a long time, he felt healthy again, like himself again. Slowly he felt like Roronoa Zoro again. He also became better at controlling his transformations, although he was very slow at extending the time in which he could hold onto his own body. Day in and day out he had been busy with his training, his memories, and the chess duels against the Shichibukai, so that he had almost forgotten what was hidden at the ground of his closet

He had almost believed that this meeting, this contract with Eizen, had been nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

But he knew that wasn't true. Late in the evening, he sometimes pulled out the white folder just to remind himself that it had not been just a simple nightmare. There was nothing conspicuous in the contract, he could show it to Mihawk and he would not be able to find anything suspicious.

But these other papers, explaining in detail where almost every single person he had ever met more closely was currently and how they could die; these pages were a constant reminder that he was trapped. Chopper, Usopp, and Robin had not been given a current location. This meant that even Eizen did not know everything.

Just as he did not know that Mihawk knew Zoro's true identity.

Of course, the easiest thing would have been to tell Mihawk the truth, to tell him that Eizen had blackmailed him, had threatened him, had seen through him. Besides, it was also a challenge to hide things from the other, it really would be the easier choice to just let him in.

But Zoro had noticed something else, Eizen did not take Mihawk seriously. Although he knew that Zoro was also a pirate, the politician continued to treat him with respect – or at least wasn’t consistently mocking him like Mihaw - had alleged him as a counterpart, called him a fellow player. Mihawk, on the other hand, he regarded only as a pawn, as an unimportant accessory. Eizen despised Mihawk, and somehow Zoro wanted to take advantage of that.

He had to take advantage of Eizen underestimating Mihawk, but that also meant that the Shichibukai could not know the truth, because then he would probably spill the beans. When he met Eizen, Mihawk had shown himself to be uncontrolled, almost enraged.

Zoro had to keep him in the dark, he wouldn't risk the other's title just to avoid having to face Eizen alone. He would defeat the bastard of a politician alone, if only because he had dared to threaten his friends.

At least, the brief visit to Sasaki and the days that followed had ensured that Mihawk had worried about other things. Zoro’s dreams and the legend of Hakuryuu had distracted the elder from the real problems, not once had they talked about the snobby politician and Zoro didn’t mind.

Eizen's visit had happen more than a month ago and slowly Zoro became restless. However, this had very little to do with the politician; he had been training on Kuraigana for more than two months now and yet he had barely achieved anything, he was still far too weak.

"Concentrate, Roronoa. Stop daydreaming, what is on your mind today?"

"Nothing," he growled, ruffling through his hair.

"Then pull yourself together, without focus you won't master the Kenbunshoku Haki." The Shichibukai sounded irritated.

"Stop nagging, I know that myself!"

The elders groaned angrily. “There is no need for snarky remarks. If you are that absentminded, we should stop."

"No," he murmured, and went back into position, "no breaks."

Now Mihawk almost sighed disappointed. "That was not a suggestion, Roronoa. With your mood today, you will not make any progress either way."

"What?"

The older man rubbed his neck.

"It is always the same with you. If you are annoyed about anything, you lose focus, but you still want to keep training like a madman. But in these very situations, training with you is wasted time."

Angry, Zoro stared at the other.

"What are you talking about? Let's just keep going, okay?"

"No, we won't do that." The older man turned around. "No discussion. We are leaving now.”

"But..."

“Roronoa!”

"Don't you understand? It's been more than two months and I still haven’t mastered the Kenbunshoku Haki. I don't have time to take breaks."

Mihawk sighed again and rubbed his nose for a moment. "So, we will have this discussion. Roronoa, I told you that six months will be far from enough. We are exactly within my schedule, but every now and then you have to take some rest. In training, structured breaks are important."

He hated it when the other sounded so rational and logical.

“I know you are ambitious, but do not tense up that much. Everyone has a bad day, that is normal and sometimes it is better to let the training rest on such a day before you may even hurt yourself." The elder looked at him. "You know you won’t change my mind. We can resume training tomorrow. Calling it a day earlier once in a while will not hinder your development, probably on the contrary."

Angry Zoro brushed through his hair, individual strands fell in his face, still wet from the long-gone rain.

"Roronoa, you know I am right, otherwise you would oppose me. The sun is already setting. If you want to argue, for all I care, we can do that. But let us do it inside with a glass of wine, like civilized people and not like a bunch of barbarians between the rubble of gone kingdoms."

Shaking his head, Zoro laughed coldly.

"We're pirates, damn it, stop sounding like one of these snobs."

"In case you have not noticed yet, Roronoa, I may be a pirate, but that does not sum up my entire personality. You should understand this best."

For a moment, they stared hard at each other, neither willing to give in. Then a nasty smile crossed Mihawk’s face.

"What?" Zoro growled, but the elder just shook his head, that mean grin still on his thin lips. “Come on, spit it out!"

Did the elder make fun of him?

"I was just wondering if you are letting your hair grow deliberately. How long do you think it will take to get Loreen's hairstyle?"

"Shut up!"

Angry, he hurried around, grabbed his swords, and rushed towards the castle.

Quietly laughing, the elder followed him. He was able to keep up with him effortlessly.

"If you want, I could cut your hair, or you ask the ghost girl for a few bobby pins."

Zoro did not respond. He wouldn’t let that happen, because just adding a beard and then he could as well act as Mihawk's little brother. Nami or the cook had always been responsible for the crew. Once every few weeks, one of them had pulled him on a chair and fiddled with some scissors. Zoro had always let them do it, had never thought much about it.

Quietly sighing he climbed the stairs up to the castle; maybe he should ask Perona to cut his hair, because the other was right, slowly it became annoying.

But Perona had vanished somewhere within in the depths of the castle, even when Zoro came into the large fireplace room after the necessary shower, he found only the Shichibukai. As often, he sat in his expansive armchair and read the newspaper. There was a book on his armrest.

It was one of the books about Alciel’s and Hakuryuu's teachings, but it was not the one Zoro had translated.

The elder did not react when he got in.

"So, you just made me stop training so that I would translate those books for you?" Zoro was still angry at the other. He hated when the other decided out of one of his whims to stop practice. Even less he could tolerate when the other patronized him or subtly tried to manipulate him. As if he were falling for that.

"Tze," was all the other replied and flipped page, still without even glancing at Zoro.

"Stop ignoring me!" He demanded, slapping away the other's newspaper.

Now Mihawk looked directly at him.

"You are quite ill-tempered today, Roronoa. It was the right decision to stop training. As uncontrolled as you are today, you won't master the Kenbunshoku Haki." Angry, Zoro wanted to answer, but the other continued to speaking: “To be honest, I have difficulty understanding why you are in such a bad mood today, so I thought you might want to read a book to calm yourself down.”

Unimpressed, he stared back. Should that somehow appease him?

"Of course, you could just explain to me why you get so easily irritated today."

"I'm not irritated," he replied, reaching for the little book.

"Of course not." The elder bent after the newspaper and continued his activity.

Indecisive, Zoro stared at the other. He knew that Mihawk was right, could feel it clearly, this inner restlessness, this feeling that he would fail. He had to get stronger, so much stronger, but somehow, he seemed to fail.

But that was just one of his problems, just one of those things that hovered over him like a dark shadow. Just like Eizen, although not present, although not the subject of any conversation, Zoro felt as if the politician was always looking over his shoulder.

And then there was his own body, which again and again started to feel unpleasant, even to hurt, until Zoro gave in, until Zoro turned back into Loreen, the body he would never be able to abandon. At least, he knew now what had happened. At least, he now knew that he had actually died, but had decided in the afterlife to live on, to continue fighting, even if that meant being trapped in a weak body. He himself had made this decision but had not been aware of the consequences.

All he had seen at that time had been his friends and his dream, none of which he had wanted to give up, but now the words that this strange figure had told him were haunting him. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to worry about things he didn't understand anyway. Normally he wouldn't be impressed by something like that. But this time it was different; it was about something bigger and he didn't know if he wanted to have anything to do with it.

Slowly, he started to see why the other reborns wanted to avoid outsiders finding out about them. He himself had avoided telling Mihawk the truth. How could he explain to the other that after his death he had been faced with a choice by an unearthly being without sounding completely insane?

He remembered that this creature had called him a traveler. He recalled how it had revealed him three possibilities, and he had decided to return to his old life, to be reborn, in Loreen's body.

He also recalled that this being had wanted to send him to a certain place or person. Either so that Zoro himself would learn what he had forgotten, or so that he would change the fate of that other person. Now he looked at the elder and wondered why he had ended up on Sasaki.

It would have been a lie to say that Mihawk had not changed him - and not only in terms of sword fighting - but it was also true that the Shichibukai had changed.

Shaking his head, Zoro turned away and sat down on a sofa, the little book in his hand.

He shouldn't think about things like that. It wouldn’t help him at all to philosophize about questions he would not find an answer to. Everything would come as it may and he would take his fate into his own hands, regardless of what any fantasy had told him.

In the end, he couldn't even be sure that all of this had actually happened. In doubt, it had been nothing more than some crazy dream and then he knew as much as before, namely nothing at all.

So how could he explain to Mihawk what irritated him without being completely ridiculed?

Again, he shook his head and opened the book. His own thoughts would not take him any further, it was better to do something meaningful and even if he would not admit it, it had been a good idea of the elder to offer this book to him.

-Mihawk-

He watched the younger one closely. Could see how his mind worked behind these serious eyes, could see how the other one frowned, how his lips became a thin line.

Roronoa obviously processed something and this process was already going on for days. Most of the time, Roronoa pushed whatever occupied him into the depths of his subconscious to concentrate mainly on training, but he did not always succeed.

Just like today. Already at breakfast he had been absentminded, had stared into the empty room, had repeatedly been daydreaming for several minutes, only to suddenly shake his head and participate in life again.

Mihawk did not know for sure what was going on with the other, but he suspected that it was about the dreams that had plagued Roronoa until roughly a month ago. Probably it also had something to do with the reborns, as Roronoa called the people who, like him, had been given a second chance.

All these were things Roronoa did not want to talk about with him, being extremely stubborn.

Now Roronoa sat on his sofa and read the book Mihawk had put out for him. The younger one developed well, soon, very soon they would begin to train the Busoshoku Haki and it was difficult for Mihawk to suppress his anticipation. He was curious to see if the other was really as talented as he had touted in the little anecdote from his childhood.

But Roronoa was also stubborn, wanted to give his all at all costs every day, every moment, always bringing his body to the brink of his capability. It seemed as if the younger one still did not understand that this dull stubbornness would hinder rather than help.

But he also knew that Roronoa had impressed him with these character traits back then. The youngster had his own way, had developed his own fighting style and maybe it was also a mistake to train him like everyone else. Perhaps Roronoa's impatience was justified, perhaps he no longer had to treat Roronoa like a student, perhaps he really had to start to see him as the opponent his little frog wanted to be, despite of the risk.

With a silent sigh, he flipped another page, if he had been just as ambitious in his youth.

For a while, both swordsmen read in consensual silence. These quiet moments had become rare, these evenings where they enjoyed each other's company without the need for a conversation. Roronoa's tension was now nothing more than a reminder, hardly worth mentioning, not serious enough to depress the serenity of the evening. 

But then it came as it had to come, and Perona came in. For Mihawk, she was always too loud. She opened the doors like at the beginning of a big performance, stomped across the floor with her clanking heels like an unenacted dance, spoke loudly enough to fill a fully booked theatre hall.

Her look was also loud, her cotton candy pink hair was a stark contrast to the bright red of her dress, along with the bright yellow teddy bear in her arm, which meanwhile wore a self-stitched blue and white beanie. The strong make-up and the penetrating, slightly too sweet scent of her perfume did the rest.

Mihawk was aware that he was thin-skinned concerning this woman and he knew exactly why. But even that did not change the fact that her simple presence was usually already enough to annoy him and he often wondered why he did not just kick her out.

He watched from the corner of his eye as she handed Roronoa a package that had been delivered for Lady Loreen during the late morning. Roronoa’s dark voice could not have been more opposite to her high-pitched one. Although Perona was a few years older, Roronoa seemed to be much more mature and wiser. She, on the other hand, was as innocent and ignorant as a little brat.

Roronoa accepted the package without paying any attention to it while arguing with her about trivialities, but unlike Perona, Roronoa didn't seem to take their quarrels particularly seriously, his eyes sparkling almost mischievously and a nasty grin had crept onto his lips. Most of the time he seemed like that when he argued with the girl, always at the edge but never truly hurtful, never seriously mean, never really going in for dispute. Perona, on the other hand, always seemed to take each of their arguments very seriously, at least she always became very emotional and of course also very loud, but she too forgot the exchanged insults the moment the quarrel ended.

It amazed Mihawk constantly how those two treated each other, Roronoa behaved mostly quite differently than when he was talking with Mihawk, he seemed much younger, much more childish, and last but not least somehow more cheerful.

When Roronoa argued with him it was usually intense and significant. Rarely did they discuss small things, and even if they were both too proud to give in.

No, only once had he experienced Roronoa like this, at that time during their very first discussion. At that time, he had almost attacked Roronoa. Mihawk remembered well how the younger had mocked him because of his age, and he remembered how he had lost control for a brief moment because of something completely irrelevant.

He had attacked the youngster in his female form, clashing down the sofa Roronoa had been sitting on and had almost hit him. But Roronoa had just sat there, his arms folded, his eyes unimpressed, totally indifferent by him, the best swordsman in the world.

More than three months had passed since then, three months in which much had changed.

He sighed, such thoughts were nothing more than an unnecessary waste of time, would never be of use to him, and in the end it was unimportant how the relationship between Roronoa and this ghost girl was, who now turned around, a fire-red shimmer on her puffed cheeks, and stared directly at him. Mihawk could see clearly how she wanted to snap something at him, but did not dare to, and then just furiously stuck out her tongue before rushing out again.

Roronoa, on the other hand, had placed the package unnoticed next to him and now continued to read his book, the quiet smile and the amused look gone within a second.

"You got mail?" Mihawk asked the obvious question to allow a conversation. "From whom?"

"Eizen," replied Roronoa without even pausing to read.

"Excuse me?" Slowly, he let the newspaper sink and looked at the other. "And you see no necessity to look what he sent you?"

"It's not going to be a letter bomb," the younger murmured, flipping one page.

“Roronoa, that is not what this is about. You should..."

"I should what?" Now the other responded, much more threatening than expected. “I should train, I should get stronger, I should master the Kenbunshoku Haki. Instead, you patronize me and ordered me to take a break to read."

Surprised, Mihawk lacked words for a moment. He had thought that they had discussed this issue enough for today. Sighing, he put the newspaper away.

"I thought we talked about this. You have..."

"No," the younger one interrupted him, and again there was this stinging gaze, this suppressed rage, "you decided. You thought I was just wasting your time and you were too good for that."

"Then why are you still sitting here and not outside and continuing your training? If my opinion is that wrong, why do you follow my instructions?"

For a second, the other looked away.

"It was our deal," Roronoa muttered, much calmer. “I've promised to follow your decisions, but that doesn't mean I agree, not even talking about appreciating.”

Once again, the younger one astonished him. He had almost forgotten how important it was for the other to keep his word.

Mihawk thoughtfully brushed over his beard.

"Roronoa. I have not finished today's unit to punish or to torment you. It is also in my interest that you reach your full potential as soon as possible. But you just have to realize that you as well have days when you are not fully focused and on those days the training is more frustrating than inspiring."

"So what?" Now Roronoa as well put his book away. "Do you think my opponent cares if I have a good day or not? Do you think I've never had frustrating days or weeks? That is part of it, but that is why I am not quitting. That's the reason I have to keep going, struggle through it. Maybe the day ends as a defeat, maybe the training was nothing more than a waste of time, but maybe the Berry drops, maybe I get one step further. But if you don’t try, if you just go home to try it later, haven't you already given up?"

He took his time, examined the other extensively, letting Roronoa’s words sink in, tried to understand the reasons for their disagreement. Eventually, he rested his elbows on his knees, leaned forward, and placed his chin on his folded hands.

"Tell me Roronoa, what distracted you so much, today? Why were you unfocused?"

Roronoa withstood his gaze, his jaw tensing and relaxing before he finally replied: "During the last three months there have been a lot of distractions, the ball, Homura, Eizen, I don't care about all that. All I want is to train. I want to get better, stronger. I want to protect my crew and now we have the time. We are undisturbed here, just you and me, no Kanan with dance lessons, no invitations to any events and yet in the four weeks on Sasaki I learned more than during the last two months here, at least that's how it feels."

"So, you want to spend hours with fruitless training?"

"Of course, everything is better than counting the seconds until you think I can go on."

Slowly, he nodded. He had to realize that Roronoa was different. Unlike Mihawk, the younger could not find peace in a relaxed evening, at least not when he felt that he had not yet done enough.

"Well," he said, and stood up, "get your swords."

"What?" The other looked at him in surprise.

But Mihawk only folded his arms. "From now on, Roronoa, you are responsible for your physical well-being. I will no longer go easy on you; I will not take any consideration. I will keep demanding from you until you are either dead or request a break, understood?"

Roronoa nodded and got up.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Are you serious now?"

"Do I look like I am joking?"

For a second, the youngster stared at him, then grabbed book and package and rushed out of the room.

Mihawk was not totally certain this was the smartest way to go, but if Roronoa wanted to be more challenged, dissatisfied with his current progress, Mihawk had to adapt his methods. He would never be considerate of an opponent.

On the way to the entrance, he met Perona.

"What's going on?" She asked suspiciously. "You're going out again?"

"Roronoa and I will train a little bit more," he replied briefly.

"What?" She whispered horrified. "I just finished making dinner."

"Well, we will miss that today. I suspect we will also miss breakfast."

Her already large eyes widened a bit.

"While we are at it, did by chance any package arrive for me as well?"

She still seemed unsettled but nodded: "From your housekeeper. It's in the kitchen.”

"Why is it there? Bring it here."

She looked at him again but turned around and disappeared through one of the doors. Almost simultaneously, another opened and Roronoa came in, his three swords on his hip.

Few minutes later, both of them plus Perona were back at the ruins, where they usually trained. Mihawk handed the younger man the little parcel that Kanan had sent him.

"I had them made especially for you. Shakuyak knows some good goldsmiths from the Sabaody Archipelago, so it is impossible to trace them back to me."

He watched as Roronoa unpacked the small box and finally opened it. His usual serious expression gave way to surprise when he looked at the content.

"Why did you do that?" The younger one muttered without looking at him.

"I thought it was obvious, I am a nostalgic person," he said jokingly.

Carefully, Roronoa lifted up one of the three golden earrings.

"As you can see, they are ear clips and not real earrings. I wanted to avoid that Loreen could be unmasked by three holes in the left ear. However, Shakuyak has assured me that you will not notice any difference while wearing them."

For a moment, the other looked at him, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Why did you do this? I didn't ask you to.”

Mihawk smiled slightly.

"Ah Roronoa. I did this not for you, but for me. I liked your earrings, signs of a childlike rebellion paired with the pride of the three-sword style. They belong to you just like this ridiculous haramaki or like your three swords."

Roronoa, however, only pursed his lips without saying anything but put on the earrings.

"And now you look like Roronoa Zoro again."

He could not deny the quiet feeling of pride. With the haramaki, the white shirt, the black cloth around the upper arm, and now with the earrings, the other looked exactly the same as when they had first faced each other, all those months ago, in the East Blue.

Roronoa put the box aside and looked at him unimpressed, folding his arms.

No, he did not look like he had back then, he had changed. It was not just the longer hair and the wider neck that testified to this. Roronoa was now a man.

"Well, what are we doing today?" Roronoa asked, and suddenly it was there, this grin, this roguish smirk. As if the earrings were the last missing piece of the puzzle.

"How long do you last before you become Loreen again?" Mihawk asked, sitting down on an overturned rock pillar.

Perona followed him and handed him a bottle of wine, apparently her attempt to placate him, he did not mind for once.

"Nah, at least until sunrise," the younger replied confidently. "Why?"

Mihawk received a filled wine glass from the ghost girl.

"Draw your sword, Roronoa."

The younger one followed his instructions.

"Say, did you ever break a sword?" He asked, knowing the answer, of course, and looking at Wado-Ichi-Monji in Roronoa's hand. He liked this sword, could feel the loyalty and connection between it and its master. Could see with how much appreciation the younger one cared about it, hardly a scratch stained the blade and yet he could see the few.

"Sure," the other said, "a few times I think, even in the fight against you, so..."

"I do not know if that Marine explained it to you back then, but if you could control your Haki well enough, your swords would never break again."

The younger one froze and looked at him in disbelief. Obviously, he had not expected what was to come.

"Every scratch on the blade of your sword is a sign of shame, a sign that your sword had to pay for you not being good enough. You have to learn to turn your swords into black blades, only this way you will be able to defeat me one day."

Roronoa did not respond but continued to stare at him in panic.

"You want a challenge, Roronoa? Well, then we will start today with the Busoshoku Haki."

"No," whispered the younger one, "but you said I had to learn the Kenbunshoku first and then we’d start with Loreen and…”

"Plans change." He took a sip. "I want to see what you can do, what this Vice Admiral has taught you, whether your failure was because of his inability or whether there is really more behind it. As I said, the closed season is over, you wanted it that way."

His pupil took a deep breath, his teeth gritted tightly, he was struggling with himself. Eventually he nodded and reached for the wine bottle, but Mihawk was faster. Grinning, he poured himself another glass.

"Until you can make black blades out of your swords, there is no alcohol for you."

"What?!" Now the other was horrified.

"Of course, as a small encouragement. Besides, it will be good for you to detox your body once in a while."

"You monster," the younger growled.

Unimpressed, Mihawk drank his wine.

"You wanted me to take off the gloves, Roronoa. Now we get down to business.”


	27. Chapter 23 - Contemplation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To another great week!
> 
> I hope you guys are doing well! Thank you so much for your kind comments. I love each and every single one of them!
> 
> There's nothing more for me to say, so enjoy the next chapter (and have some pity for Zoro) ;-)

Chapter 23 - Contemplation

-Zoro-

He had expected something different. For weeks, he had feared that moment. Both sleepless nights and ominous nightmares had warned him. Thousands of situations his subconscious had imagined how his training would become a horror scenario, the moment Hawk Eyes wanted to teach him the Busoshoku Haki.

Countless times he had dreamed of coming back to his senses between the ruins, covered in blood, in front of him the defaced corpses of the only two other people on this island. Countless times he had imagined how this irrepressible power would grow within him and then break out unintended, destroying everything that would be in his way.

Yes, since the day he had agreed to learn from Mihawk the application of the Busoshoku Haki, since that day Zoro had been afraid of training, even if he would never admit it.

But he had not expected things to develop like this.

"No slacking off, Roronoa!" His teacher ordered as he ran stress-free next to Zoro, even now the Shichibukai was still wearing his stupid shirt, even though it had to be at least their eighth round around the island, he didn't even seem to sweat.

Quite opposite to Zoro himself.

It wasn't that he didn't have the fitness to run around the island for a few laps, especially because they weren’t even running that fast, and yet the sweat ran down his temples like rain.

Because of exhaustion he did not even manage to toss a suitable answer at the elder but concentrated on inhaling and exhaling evenly to the beat of his steps. He was slightly dizzy, and the sea breeze made him feel sick.

He knew that Mihawk could see how he was doing, and he knew that the Shichibukai would have no consideration. On the contrary.

"What? Are you already tired? We did not even finish ten laps."

Zoro had to admit that at that time, when he had encouraged the elder to stop patronizing him, he had no idea what he had been getting himself into.

For the first few days he had noticed how the change had affected the other, the concern in those eyes, the pursed lips, the dissatisfied clicking with the tongue. But by now the other had probably discovered his sadistic side. A nasty grin covered his otherwise so serious traits, as so often lately when Zoro felt he was about to reach his limit.

He had believed that the previous training with the Shichibukai had been tough, that the training of the Kenbunshoku Haki had been a challenge, but he had been mistaken.

Mihawk had adapted his training for about three weeks now, and thus they had been training day and night for about three weeks. The Shichibukai didn't care if he turned into Loreen in between, gave him no breather, demanded even more of him, demanded until Zoro collapsed and beyond.

In the beginning it had been easy, just standing on the spot, concentrating, Zoro had only taken a few hours to put the invisible armor around his body, it had been like back then, quite simple. A weak armor, hardly suitable for anything, not to defend and let alone to attack, but his body had remembered how to use Busoshoku Haki and so it had been almost an easy thing to evoke this immaterial shield.

This, however, had been the easy part, the part Zoro had known, in which Hawk Eyes had demanded almost the same from him as the Marine had back then.

But after Zoro had done it, the Shichibukai had demanded something completely different from him.

At the beginning of the training Zoro had given in to give up his swords, something that was not easy for him, but he had not resisted; if he was honest, he had been relieved. As a child, he had begun to learn to harden objects early on, even before he could even make a reasonable armor.

Mihawk approached the matter in a very different way. The moment Zoro had managed to build up a weak copy of an invisible armor, the elder had demanded him to move while making the armor.

And that was just much more difficult, like asking a child to lift a chair and then offering them a whole ship. Now Zoro understood why most members of the CP-9 could only use their Haki as long as they were not moving. It was one thing to use the armament while standing still. Layer over layer until the armor was hard enough. With a little practice, it only took a fraction of a second.

That was what Zoro had learned as a child, but that was not what Mihawk wanted from him.

That's why they ran, round by round, around this godforsaken island.

The first few days had been an impossibility for Zoro to run and use Busoshoku at the same time, he had felt incredibly stupid. Mihawk could just as well have asked him to grow wings.

At some point he got a hang of it and since then his training had consisted of nothing else. The Shichibukai didn't care if he was Zoro or Loreen, he made no difference, Zoro had to work out the physical differences himself and had to pace himself.

In the beginning he had not been doing well, three times he had come to his senses on the cool forest floor, after he had fainted from exhaustion. By now he was better. The armor he was able to produce was still far too thin to really be used in combat, but at least he was able to move freely and wasn't going crazy just yet.

If Zoro were totally honest, he was surprised. He had been very worried about this training and now he had to admit that it was just the way he liked his training: hard, merciless, and with clear progress.

A few minutes ago, he had passed the bay of the coffin boat for the ninth time and now his legs gave in. He stumbled a few steps before he had to catch himself with both arms.

"If your armor breaks through the fall, you did not understand the meaning of the Busoshoku Haki," the words of his teacher hovered over to him, who had not even stopped, but continued running.

Zoro jumped back up. He was still dizzy and felt like he was about to vomit. The creation of an armor was a matter for the whole body, unlike any training, unlike any fight, to move at the same time was like trying to scream while at the same time breathing in.

When he looked up, he could see the blurred back of Hawk Eyes, who was not even thinking of waiting for him. Determined, he got up and ran on, the steps clumsy, tactless. Every now and then his knees gave way, but he kept running.

"And what in heaven’s name are you doing?" He tried to catch up with the Shichibukai. “This training is not about us running a few laps here, you know that, right? Use your Haki, otherwise there is no need for us to continue."

Now he had almost reached the elder, who ran effortlessly across the heavy forest floor.

Again, Zoro tried to calm his breath, closed his eyes for a brief moment and concentrated. When he reopened them, he could feel the slight tingling on his skin.

He didn't know how long he would last, but he would never give in. His gaze stuck on a point between the shoulder blades of the Shichibukai and he fell into a strange trot. He ignored his aching limbs and exhausted body, forgot the tingling on his skill and the slight pounding in his skull. At the edges of his field of vision, black dots danced, which made his vision blur again and again, only the older man's back remained clearly visible and so Zoro ran, noticing hardly anything around him. Sometimes he heard Hawk Eye’s voice but did not understand his words.

He didn't know how much time had passed, how many laps they had run, he didn't think at all and then, all of a sudden, the back of the Shichibukai in front of him turned into a garish mixture of purple and green for a moment before the world turned black.

-Mihawk-

A quiet puff made him pause. Roronoa had probably fainted again. Sighing, he stopped and turned around for his apprentice.

It was not the first time that the young swordsman had trained to the point of complete exhaustion, simply collapsed while running, presumably unconscious before even hitting the ground.

Mihawk ruffled through his hair. This kid would kill his last nerve. For weeks he had tried to teach the youngster to pay attention to his own body, but Roronoa didn't seem to care.

Mihawk did not like how Roronoa urged himself into fainting, tormenting his body until it gave up. He had never trained like that. He had been sweating, bleeding, but this was an extreme that was almost unpleasant to him.

But he did his best to ignore this inner voice of reason. After all, he had to admit that this unfamiliar kind of training, this hard, merciless fight to the point of unconsciousness, seemed to work for the younger one.

He knew that Roronoa was talented far above the norm. The last few weeks Mihawk had time to get used to the fact that Roronoa was extremely gifted, giving the natural a name, but Mihawk had already met some highly talented swordfighters in his life and most of them had been naturals.

No, the big difference to all these naturals was this never-ending will to fight, this guts with which the younger one trained until his body betrayed him.

It was precisely this attitude that caused Roronoa to surprise him again and again. Though he had shown his talent right from the beginning, Roronoa did have his problems with the Kenbunshoku Haki and took a relatively long time to learn its basics, although he had been even faster than the average, Mihawk fortunately did not have to deal with.

But it was precisely for this reason that it was almost shocking how quickly the youngster could apply the Busoshoku Haki; not almost, it was shocking, in fact Mihawk lacked a suitable explanation for it.

Roronoa had given him high expectations with his little horror story from his childhood; Mihawk had doubted that even a Roronoa Zoro could use this ability so quickly, but the younger one had proved him wrong, had only taken a few hours for something for which the average could even need weeks.

Mihawk had not expected it, but fortunately he was able to deal with unpredictable developments. To take the pressure off his student, he had taken Roronoa’s swords, and although the other had not talk about it, Mihawk could feel his concern. The youngster actually believed that he could become a danger to him.

Shaking his head about this unnecessary worry, he walked back to his little frog. Roronoa may have been an exceptional talent, may have a talent that was unparalleled, may pursue his dream purposefully and stubbornly, all this might correspond to the truth and yet, nevertheless, he was still far from his goal. Nevertheless, the youngster did not pose a threat to him in the slightest, and even though Roronoa learned using Busoshoku Haki at a speed that surprised even him, his armor was as weak as a piece of paper, not even thinking about hardening.

Since Roronoa already had bad experience with the technique, it had been important for Mihawk to teach him how to use it in a completely different way. Instead of training him to make the armor as strong and hard as possible as quickly as possible, he made sure that Roronoa focused on other things.

It was a major weakness of many Marines who were able to make a reasonable amor but were unable to move with it. In Mihawk’s opinion it made much more sense to train stamina first, until it would feel almost naturally for Roronoa to wear the invisible armor permanently.

Unlike the Kenbunshoku Haki, which was mainly a concentration challenge and only demanded the head, Busoshoku affected the whole body and could hinder rather than protect an inexperienced user in combat.

That was why Roronoa should learn how to use the technique as normally as possible before he should start improving it. Only if the pirate was able to maintain the armor easily over a longer period of time while fighting in the process, or in this case run, they would start to strengthening the amor and, if possible, even hardening it.

And only then, only after Roronoa had managed the hardening, only then Mihawk wanted to encourage his apprentice to extend his armor to objects. He hoped that this slightly different approach would make the younger one would be the one controlling the Busoshoku, and not the other way around.

Looking at the other lying on the ground, he thought about what to do. His inner clock told him that Roronoa would transform soon. Again, he sighed, before throwing Roronoa over his shoulder, and headed back.

He was still annoyed by the Marine who had wanted to teach an ignorant child the use of Haki within a few days. Regardless of the student's talent, he thought it was grossly negligent to teach such techniques under time pressure. Especially Haki needed an exact application, a precise implementation, especially when a person was just beginning to understand it. Someone who ignored such things only to distinguish themselves was not suitable as a teacher.

In the shadow of the forest, Mihawk was able to detect movements. He was not surprised that the humandrills were watching them.

Of course, they did not dare to come into the light, they were too scared of him, but he was not certain they would be equally wary of Roronoa, at least not as soon as he slumped weakened by training. One more reason why he could not let his little frog out of sight during training.

In front of him rose the old castle in the everlasting fog, the mountains in the background threatening as ever. He liked this island, liked this little peace, this gloomy serenity that it radiated and Roronoa's presence brought the necessary life to the cold halls. Unfortunately, the annoying ghost girl also brought noise and chaos.

Mihawk would prefer to throw her out, rather today than tomorrow, but it seemed as if Roronoa liked her, had convinced him to let her stay. After all, she had meanwhile surrendered in her role as a housekeeper, took care of cooking, washing laundry, and cared for Roronoa's wounds. Mihawk allowed her to stay as long as she proved useful.

She was also able to help Roronoa with his women's problems and that was one of the few things he really did not want to deal with.

The boy on his shoulder still did not move, but suddenly his weight began to decrease, first one boot fell, then the other.

Mihawk stopped. It was a strange moment, although he had watched Roronoa several times, when he transformed, it was not something he could get used to. Carefully he took the unconscious child off his shoulder, now he had nothing in common with the demon of the East Blues, the long green hair, the innocent face, and that should be Roronoa Zoro?

Sighing Mihawk carried the doll weight on his arms, lifted up the boots and continued his way.

A few minutes later, he had reached the castle. Roronoa in his arms was still calm, but the ghost girl on the other hand seemed to visibly enjoy being alone for once. Similar to Kanan, Perona spent the time singing loudly, though their taste of music differed greatly. Kanan preferred the traditional folk songs, which she always sang with fervor. When Perona sang, however, her voice lamented through the empty corridors like the mourning song of a ghost.

Mihawk had never been a fan of music, found it disturbing if anything at all. But if he was quite honest, he thought that the music choice of the ghost girl was appropriate. It suited the island and it suited the castle to be filled with lamentations.

But, of course, he would never admit it.

As he crossed the entrance, he could see her ghosts disappearing as soon as they saw him, much like the humandrills in the forest. Perona probably used them as personal watchdogs, which would immediately inform her as soon as someone came in.

He actually did not mind, even though he did not like the fact that she also supervised him. But for the moment he ignored this thought while taking his little frog into the social room, the room they mainly spent their free time.

A lively fire burned in the fireplace and various colorful and sweet pastries were on the table. Mihawk wondered what Perona would do with if no one would eat them.

He laid Roronoa on the large sofa and threw a blanket over him. They had trained for four days, only taking breaks so that Roronoa could change clothes or when he could hardly stand due to exhaustion. They had not slept. There had been hardly any time to eat.

Something like this could happen, real fights could go on for days, it was important to learn to pace oneself and Roronoa was already very good at it.

Satisfied with the previous session, Mihawk grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine from the side table before strolling over to the dining table. Sweet foods were not quite his taste, but he had to admit that the dark chocolate pastry tempted him after all. He put the current newspaper under his arm and then took the desired bowl with his free hand.

Overloaded, he set off for his favorite armchair, from where he could see both the door and the sofa.

He should not be disappointed, both wine and pastry tasted excellent. Yes, he could be really satisfied. Smiling quietly, he opened his favorite read.

At that moment, he heard the click of the door followed by the ghost girl's clattering heels.

"You're back," she commented the obvious while he did not even look up.

"Is Zoro doing well?" Her voice, as usual, showed little concern. It was not the first time she had found Roronoa unconscious, and Mihawk was sure she would not be worried as long as he remained calm.

"It was a tough workout," he said simply.

If she responded wordlessly to his answer, he missed it, as he continued to pay his attention to the newspaper. However, he could hear her also taking some of the pastry before settling on the small stool next to the sofa on which Roronoa lay. She was suspiciously calm, but he decided to take advantage of this exceptional situation and not to ask for what reason.

When he flipped another page, he noticed that she was actually reading, what was rare, not that he cared. Nor did he miss the glance she repeatedly threw at Roronoa. That was probably the only thing that connected them, their constant concern for Roronoa Zoro, albeit for completely different reasons.

"Has mail arrived during the last few days?" He opened the conversation instead of sliding further down in that swirl of thoughts.

"Only a letter, the envelope looked very much like Eizen." He could hear in her voice that she was not thrilled either. Since her encounter with the politician, she seemed to be afraid of him.

Disapprovingly, he pursed his lips. During the past few weeks Roronoa had received letters and small parcels from Eizen, and Roronoa refused to explain to him what he had received.

He still could hardly believe that Roronoa had really agreed to a contract with this power-obsessed man, but whatever he said or did, Roronoa had made it very clear that he would not talk to Mihawk about it.

It was obvious that the youngster was hiding something, but as long as Mihawk did not allow himself to search his little frog's private rooms, he would not find out what that was.

"You should go to bed, I will stay." He looked up in surprise. Perona looked directly at him. "You just want to make sure that Zoro is doing well. But to be honest, you don't look much better. Have you slept at all during the last few days?"

So that was what he got for actually addressing her. Again, she took a step too far.

"You should really rest. I can stay here until Zoro wakes up."

"Your concerns are inappropriate," he said cold, "my well-being is not dependent on your worry."

She snorted angrily.

"I just wanted to be nice," she hissed directly. It was very easy to make her angry.

"Even that is not necessary. We are not friends; this is just a community of convenience. Do not forget that Roronoa was the one who let you stay here. Your presence is more of a thorn in my side."

"You're so mean!" Furious, she jumped up. "I can't stand you either, but that's no reason for you to rub it under my nose every time!"

She rushed away with clattering steps and bouncing braids. Loudly, the door slammed shut behind her back, but Roronoa did not want to be awakened.

Sighing, he turned back to his newspaper, even her outrage resembled a dramatic appearance. He really did not know why Roronoa accepted her.

Once again, he concentrated on the pages in his hands.

Surprised, he straightened up. With a quiet rustle, the newspaper slipped off his lap and fell to the ground. He could not remember when he had fallen asleep.

The room was dark. Only a faint glow of the dying fire threw grotesque shadows over the walls. Near the fireplace sat Roronoa, a hand almost stretched out in a trance after the heat. His short hair seemed red from the light of the glimmering coals.

Immediately Mihawk had to think of his dream, that dream in which the other had visited him in his sleep only to kill him. He did not know why, but there seemed to be something similar in the air.

"Roronoa, what are you doing?" He asked, annoyed by himself as his own voice almost tentatively broke the silence.

The pirate immediately pulled his hand back and looked over at him in surprise.

"You're awake," he said.

"What an observational talent," he muttered with a grin and stood up. "You look like you are doing better."

The younger one nodded and got up as well.

"I'm sorry I've made you trouble."

"Not at all. However, you always worry the ghost girl."

Roronoa raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really?" He asked with a slight grin.

"Why did you let me sleep, Roronoa?" Mihawk steered the subject to other directions.

The youngster shrugged. "Why not? Seemed tired."

Mihawk had to admit that he could not estimate how much time had passed. However, as the darkest night prevailed in front of the windows, he must have slept for at least five hours, if not longer.

"Well, we should head to bed. A night of restful sleep makes sense with your training workload."

He walked towards the door.

"Listen, I need to talk to you." Roronoa sounded hesitant, taking long pauses between words as if he did not know how to address what had to be discussed.

Mihawk turned around again. The other had bitten his lip and rubbed his neck.

"Is it about Eizen?" He asked directly and the swift nod of the other confirmed his fear. "What is it?"

Now the younger looked at him seriously.

"There's an event he would like to take me to, so I get to know my political responsibilities."

For a moment he was calm.

"All right. You have agreed?"

Again, the other nodded.

Mihawk felt how he became more attentive. He could not tell the words on the tip of his tongue without this conversation ending in a dispute. He did not understand why Roronoa wanted to work for the politician, but he doubted it was because of the money.

In his opinion, Roronoa should get rid of Eizen. The more closely Loreen was associated with Eizen, the more likely it was that any attentive newspaper reader would draw the right conclusions. Working with Eizen was extremely dangerous in several respects.

"And when?" He asked instead of saying what he thought. He did not know why Roronoa did not change his mind, he just knew he was missing something.

"In a week, a Marine ship is already on its way here and should arrive within the next few days."

Dissatisfied, he clicked his tongue and began to pace through the room with his arms folded.

"And you decided to tell me just now?"

"Better than the day before, right?" The younger one did not sound bold, but certainly not apologetic. He informed him but did not ask for permission. It was obvious that Roronoa wanted to make his own decisions and Mihawk had no say in them.

He took a deep breath.

"Well, that cannot be changed now. We should talk to the ghost girl that we will not be here for a few days. You should tell me something like this earlier the next time so that I can plan it. It is not very conducive to your training."

He could hardly prevent his displeasure from dripping into the spoken words. He knew that at some point it would come to something like this, of course Eizen wanted to use Lady Loreen, it was about more than just control.

"So, to be honest," Roronoa sounded controlled, a clear warning signal, "so, you can't come along."

"Excuse me?" He swirled around to the youngster, who was still standing almost motionless next to the fireplace

"According to Eizen, the conference is about highly provocative issues in some crisis areas and the presence of a Shichibukai would send the wrong signals to the other parties."

"And since when do I care what Eizen thinks?" He replied, harsh. "I hope you are not naive enough to believe this excuse. He wants to separate me from you."

"I know that, too," grumbled the younger man, who also folded his arms.

"Then why are you accepting it?" He grumbled, and hurriedly walked towards the younger one. “I don't care what motives Eizen suggests, we will not play according to this game, do you understand? I will accompany you, whether it suits him or..."

"Stop," the other interrupted him coolly and looked up at him unimpressed.

It was dead-silent, even the crackling embers fell quiet under the tension.

"What?!" The rage that had gathered within him could hardly be tamed, Roronoa on the other hand was the serenity itself.

"We've talked about this subject many times," Roronoa continued, "you have to stop treating me like a stupid kid. I don't like the situation and I'd rather train here with you than play the little doll of some asshole politician, but..." he interrupted Mihawk before he could even speak, "but I'm not stupid, okay? With Luffy as captain, we have to be prepared for everything. I had not heard of Enis Lobby or Sir Crocodile, had not been prepared for what we had to face. You yourself said that I have to expect anything in the New World. I must not only become stronger, a better fighter and strategist. I need to know our enemies."

Slowly, his anger subsided.

"I've never been interested in politics or events in the world, but I now understand that I can't continue to be so naive about life. You taught me that." Roronoa was still staring up at him, he was serious and clear. How much more mature he had become.

Sighing, Mihawk turned to the window, breaking all that was left of the tension.

"Of course, I understand that. But why Eizen? If you want to polish up your political and social expertise, I am happy to help you without being directly at risk of being caught, or worse."

Half-heartedly, the younger one laughed behind his back.

"I will manage Eizen. But you have to admit that an influential politician may be a better teacher than a Shichibukai who would rather have nothing to do with all the stuff."

"Tze," he replied, but he could hardly disagree. He had grown up in this world, but he had never liked it.

"I think I'm going to bed now," Roronoa concluded, "so we’ll be able to make good use of the next few days."

"You should take the ghost girl with you."

"Where to? To bed?"

Mihawk rolled his eyes and turned to his little frog.

"To this event. She can help you with hair and clothes. She is also significantly better at choosing her way of words than you. Lady Loreen has never been seen without my company and just after it was announced that she might have health problems, it would be extremely contradictory if she were suddenly travelling alone."

The younger man raised an eyebrow and waited for Mihawk to catch up with him.

"For all I care," Roronoa murmured, "although I'm pretty sure you just want to get rid of her because you don't want to be here alone with her."

They left the fireplace room.

"Certainly. Her voice alone drives me mad."


	28. Chapter 24 - Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody^^
> 
> I'm not at work today (because my parents aren't at home, but have some craftspeople there, so I'm at their place in case something's happening), so I thought I use my time wisely and update the next chapter. It's a small interlude for things to come, and I'm so excited about the upcoming chapters.
> 
> Have a great weekend and may you have the time to do one little thing you enjoy ;-)

Chapter 24 - Friendship

-Zoro-

"I still dislike this plan." The tall man by his side sighed heavily.

"Of course. After all, it’s not your plan," Zoro replied coolly.

"That may be the reason," the Shichibukai agreed.

"It's ten days, damn it. Somehow you will manage to survive."

"My concern is not my well-being, Roronoa."

"Well, then everything’s good."

Mihawk took a deep breath but said nothing while they waited at the island's landing place.

In front of them blocked a huge Marine ship – fuzzy by the fog - the rising sun, but since the bay was not deep enough, a small boat had been sent off to collect Zoro.

Slowly it got closer.

"Where is Perona by the way?" Zoro asked, holding a hand over his eyes as the first rays of light made it harder for him to observe the boat.

"I told her that she had to take care of all this sweet stuff. If she bakes it, she is also responsible for ensuring that it does not rot in the kitchen."

Zoro did not respond, but only slightly shook his head. Sometimes the other seemed to have really strange priorities.

"Are you really sure you want to do that?"

"So now it would be a little too late, wouldn't it? Besides, it took an eternity to put on this damn corsage. So yeah, we're going to do this."

"You surprise me, Roronoa." Doubtingly he looked up to the other. "One could almost think you enjoy this costume."

"What do you think about shutting the hell up?"

The elder laughed quietly but remained silent.

Seconds later, Perona showed up and the consensual silence was over. She complained loudly about the things she still had to do, that no one had been waiting for her, that she had to walk through the woods on her own, and that she had to wear such horrific clothes.

"Did you take care of the pastry?" Hawk Eyes interrupted her nagging, skillfully ignoring her hateful gaze.

"Yes," she hissed almost like an injured cat.

Nobody said anything anymore.

By now, the small boat had finally docked.

The two swordsmen exchanged glances and Zoro could not prevent a small grin. It wasn't as if he was looking forward for what was to come, but Mihawk's reaction was almost worth it.

The three Marines came closer in a hurry, bowed as they walked, and greeted them politely.

Mihawk couldn't resist making it clear to each and every one of them who they would be dealing with if something would happen to Lady Loreen and Zoro didn't even have to pretend that the situation was embarrassing him.

The Marines had quickly stowed the necessary luggage and together they walked to the boat.

Somewhat surprised, Zoro looked at the hand offered to him by the Shichibukai, and only then did he notice how seriously the elder looked at him, with his lips pursed and even deeper wrinkles on his forehead than usual. Mihawk seemed genuinely concerned about him.

Eye-rolling, he accepted the help of the other this time.

But when he had crossed the small distance between the dock and the boat, the elder held his hand for a second longer than necessary. Mihawk said nothing, but his cold gaze and serious facial expression spoke volumes.

With a smirk, Zoro raised both eyebrows, but said nothing as well, before the other finally let go of him.

Zoro adjusted his bothersome dress while sitting down next to Perona and decided not to look at the island behind him, showing obviously that Mihawk’s behavior was rather annoying than anything else. This unnecessary concern, this paternal fuss, which unfortunately could only too easily be misunderstood by strangers. All this was unnecessary. He had been able to cope well without the Shichibukai for the last twenty years, and now he would as well.

"He's really worried," Perona muttered next to him.

Zoro nodded only because he couldn't say what he thought without the Marines listening.

However, they were busy with other things. Two of them rowed like it was a matter of life and death to get them to the warship as quickly as possible. Yet, they did not seem to be very experienced and Zoro was convinced that he would make better progress on his own in his current body.

The third soldier sat opposite him and Perona, allegedly working on documents to make sure Lady Loreen's luggage was not lost, but his eyes did not move and Zoro could see that he was completely enchanted by his guests.

Zoro couldn't really blame him. He was used as Lady Loreen to be stared at by strangers; he didn't like it, but he knew it was going to happen. The dress chosen by Perona did the rest. 

Peron, as well, had dressed up. She wore the same dress as she had when Eizen had visited and instead of her ridiculous braids she wore her hair open, only a few strands held back by clips. She looked much older than usual, more mature. But it could also be because of her unmoved face, which was without of the usual colorful make-up. She seemed to enjoy her role as Lady Loreen’s court lady. At least one of them had fun.

Minutes later they had finally reached the huge warship, but instead of climbing up a ladder, as Zoro had expected, the entire boat was attached to two hooks and with united forces the Marines pulled on heavy ropes and hoisted the boat up. At the height of the deck, some unseen safety bars snapped in and the boat swayed slightly in the air.

The two rowers immediately started unloading the luggage while number three helped Perona to get out.

Zoro also got up and went to the edge. From the corner of his eye he could see Kuraigana and when he looked up, he noticed that there was still a single person standing there at the small jetty.

Suddenly the boat jerked to the side and Zoro lost his balance.

Needing something to grab on, his hand paddled blindly through the air as he clung to the railing of the warship with the other. But then someone pulled him almost effortlessly to the other side of the railing.

"You don't seem to be very experienced in this." He looked up in surprise. Bright green eyes, half hidden under blond curls flashed at him, only to be overshadowed by a broad grin that could rival Luffy’s.

“Jiroushin?”

"I'm happy to see you again."

And before Zoro knew what was happening, the blond giant hugged him like they were old friends.

Half an hour later, Perona and Zoro were in their cabin, but that word did not quite match the huge room with the two adjoining bedrooms that had been made available to them.

It was a great surprise to meet Rear Admiral Cho Jiroushin, but even more surprisingly was watching him as commander of the ship, ordering his soldiers around. Although the broad permanent grin never left his face, even Zoro did not doubt his authority for a second.

Mihawk's childhood friend had promised to stop by as soon as the ship was on track and the work was done.

"So just that I understand this correctly," Perona muttered as she carried clothes and suitcases from one room to the other, "this blond is Hawk Eyes’ and your friend, but doesn't know who you are?"

"And as long as you don't blabber it out, it will stay that way," he murmured. Zoro, too, roamed the rooms, but did not think about helping her, but rather examined picture frames and lifted up carpets.

He didn't know if it should surprise him or not, but he didn't actually find any bugging devices. Sighing, he slummed down on an expansive sofa. It would take them about two days to get to Mary Joa; he never thought he would ever return there.

Sighing for another time, he took the small briefcase that Perona handed him wordlessly and opened it. Eizen had sent him all the documents in advance, asking him to prepare for the conferences, and although he could really imagine better, he began to read.

At the same time, however, he took to heart what Mihawk had told him and opened his spirit. Ten days of training would go to waste because of this. Maybe not much compared to two years, but for him it was a small eternity, so he did what Mihawk had advised him.

His skin began to tingle.

He breathed deeply, only in the last few days they had begun to use the simultaneous use of Kenbunshoku and Busoshoku Haki. Zoro did not know why his teacher had already decided to combine both variations, even though he had hardly mastered his armor, but he found that it was relatively easy for him.

Although his armor was still weak and he was not really sure how hardening worked, he felt that both abilities were supporting each other. It felt almost more natural to use them together than separately.

Time passed as he read the files. At some point, Perona brought him something to drink before she went into her room. He didn’t mind, because it was easier to concentrate when he was alone. Unlike Mihawk, she could not shield her mind, and whenever Zoro applied the Kenbunshoku Haki, he could hardly ignore her annoying thoughts. A wall between them made it much easier.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but then it knocked on the door and Rear Admiral Cho Jiroushin came in.

It wasn’t surprising to Zoro that he could not hear his thoughts. Even as a newcomer to Haki, Zoro knew how important it was to hide his own thoughts from unwanted listeners. Fortunately, according to the Shichibukai, he basically had always a wall around his mind. Whether it was due to his daily meditative exercises or whether he was simply a very closed person, Zoro didn't care, he just didn't care for strangers were rummaging through his thoughts, just as he didn’t care about hearing the annoying voices of others in his head. So he was glad that he was able to continue his inconspicuous training without Jiroushin necessarily noticing.

Zoro liked this Marine with whom he had already fought one or the other practice fight and was all the more pleased about the welcome distraction. For a long time, they talked, about Mihawk, about Sasaki, about the war.

Sometimes they laughed enthusiastically, sometimes they were serious.

Jiroushin told him that he would soon become a father and that he was promoted to Vice Admiral. In return, he wanted to know how Mihawk was doing and how Loreen's training was going along.

Zoro willingly told him everything but, of course, did not reveal who he really was.

He was almost surprised how much he enjoyed spending time with the fresh-faced Vice Admiral, and when Jiroushin called them _good friends,_ Zoro suddenly had this unexpected urge to tell him the truth.

But, of course, he didn't. Of course, Zoro could not tell him the truth. Even if he wanted to, even if he wanted to risk the confrontation, there was now more at stake than his own life. Eizen knew who he was, and Eizen had his eyes and ears everywhere.

No, Zoro knew that he probably wouldn't be able to prevent when Mihawk would decide to get involved at some point, but at least he could keep Jiroushin out of his mess.

The Vice Admiral did not seem to notice his inner dispute while he ordered food for them from his subordinates and even while they ate, he wasn’t silent for even a second. His laughter reminded Zoro of his captain and yet Jiroushin was so different. At least he could talk about more serious issues.

Though this was not the case as long as Perona was at the table, whom Jiroushin had also invited. She and the blond were discussing whether they could persuade Mihawk to renovate the castle, with their views fundamentally different about what should be modernized.

Zoro took their enthusiastic conversation less seriously and was more surprised that the Marine could stay away from his duties for so long. Every now and then other officials came in to ask him for instructions, but none of them seemed to mind that Jiroushin spent his working time eating with Lady Loreen and her court lady.

After the leftovers of the meal had been cleared, Perona retreated for some rest, and the two remaining ones turned to more interesting topics.

It was only when the day had progressed remarkedly and Zoro could no longer maintain his Haki that the Vice Admiral got up to say goodbye at last. But then he stopped in the doorway.

"Say, Loreen." Jiroushin closed the door again and turned to him, now he no longer radiated this lightness, but seemed much more thoughtful. "Can I ask you something?"

Zoro noticed the change of mood immediately and also stood up.

"Of course," he muttered, meeting the other's earnest gaze.

Jiroushin, on the other side, looked away and folded his arms.

"Are you dragging Mihawk into anything?" He asked, apparently aware of the weight of his words.

Surprised, Zoro raised an eyebrow, but did not respond.

Now the other rubbed his neck.

“I don't want to be rude or something and Mihawk can take really good care of himself. It's just..." Jiroushin still looked to the ground and shook his head slightly before smiling again. "I'm sorry, Loreen. That was thoughtless for me. Please forget what I said."

While he was speaking, he turned to the door and obviously wanted to leave.

“Jiroushin.”

The Vice Admiral paused in the middle of the movement.

"You're worried about Mihawk, aren't you?"

It was rare for the other to call the Shichibukai by his first name, and Zoro knew that Jiroushin only did it when he wasn't joking. Mihawk had already told Zoro that his childhood friend was slowly getting suspicious and that it was only a matter of time before he would find out who Zoro was in reality.

"Actually, I shouldn’t but…," the other muttered, turning back to him.

“I mean, I don't know how much you've noticed, but since you've appeared in his life, Hawky has changed quite a bit.” Jiroushin smiled weakly. “If I'm honest, I have never seen him as happy as during the last few weeks and that's just because of you.”

Again, he shook his head while Zoro could not prevent from blushing.

"When I heard about Roronoa Zoro's death, I was really worried about Hawky. You must know that he had taken a great fancy to this pirate. He was almost obsessed." The Vice Admiral shrugged his shoulders. "Be that as it may, that's not important anymore."

Zoro saw the whole matter a little different and would probably have smirked if the other one didn't sound so serious. Now he had something that he could rub on Mihawk’s nose if the Shichibukai started to act up again.

"You know Mihawk’s and my story, you know what I would do for him. Even if we are not necessarily on the same side of the law, that does not mean anything..."

"Jiroushin", he interrupted the other softly before he could stray away from the topic even more, "why are you telling me all of this?"

The other looked away, deep wrinkles dug into his otherwise carefree forehead.

"During our last meeting, Hawky said something that worried me, and it was about you." The Vice Admiral smiled again, but this time it was almost cynical. “He even thought about becoming my enemy, which is of course total nonsense. No matter what crap this idiot would do, I would never turn on him," the other murmured annoyed. “But just that he's thinking about it worries me a lot. I always thought he knew he could trust me, but apparently, he doubts it because of you. So, I ask you again, Loreen – and please tell me that I am wrong and interpret too much into his words – but do you drag Mihawk into anything?"

By now Zoro leaned with folded arms against the table.

The other's words troubled him as well. Zoro was not an idiot, even he had noticed that the Shichibukai behaved in an absolutely unusual way when it came to him, but he had obviously been unaware of the extent.

"Loreen, tell me that his words had no deeper meaning."

Now it was Zoro who looked away.

"Sorry, I can't do that," he finally admitted.

"What?" The other stared at him with his eyes wide open.

“I don't know why Mihawk told you something like that, but I want to assure you that it was his decision. I didn't know about it and I don't think much of it.”

He didn't know what to say. He would never have asked Mihawk to stand between him and Jiroushin. No, on the contrary, he didn't even want him to. It was stupid, childish, and he just really felt the need to rip his idiot of a teacher a new one.

"But why?" the Vice Admiral asked, taking a step towards him. "Why would he say such a thing? Loreen, what..."

"I'm not going to tell you the truth, Jiroushin." He sounded colder than he had intended. "To be honest, I wish I could. But it is not possible, because then we will no longer be friends."

"What are you talking about?!" Jiroushin stood right in front of him and had both hands wide open. "We are friends!"

Why did he remind Zoro so much of Luffy?

"How can you just say that, Loreen?" The other yelled.

Zoro didn’t answer and just looked at the other one. He had nothing more to add to his words, even though he knew that he was actually guilty of an explanation.

Suddenly Jiroushin grabbed him by the upper arms and shook him slightly.

Almost shocked, Zoro looked up. The gesture itself was not unknown to him, whenever Mihawk got really angry, he grabbed him like this to reason with him. No, the gesture itself did not impress Zoro at all, especially since the Vice Admiral did not use half as much force as the Shichibukai usually did.

But this was Cho Jiroushin, one of the most peace-loving people Zoro knew, and the other seemed even more shocked by his own actions than Zoro could be. Almost at the same moment Jiroushin grabbed him, he already let him go.

"I... I'm sorry!"

Panicked, the other jumped back and brought some distance between them, almost simultaneously the door to the other room opened and Perona stuck her head in.

Zoro nodded to her briefly and she closed the door again.

“I really don't want to be mean, Jiroushin, and I understand if you're not happy with the situation. But if the truth has the slightest chance of risking the friendship between you and Mihawk, then it is better for all of us if you do not know anything." The other wanted to say something, but Zoro kept talking. “I can't decide for Mihawk, but I'm not going to risk him standing in-between if you turn against me.”

"And why should I do that?"

The Vice Admiral had meanwhile put on a cool face, he seemed highly concentrated.

"You'll know that as soon as you know."

"Uhm, but that’s..."

"Don't take it personally, but I'd love to be alone now. I still have to prepare for the meeting."

Zoro turned around and walked over to his briefcase, which stood near the sofa.

"As you wish, Lady Loreen," he heard the Marine behind him. Heavy steps echoed through the room.

"Jiroushin," he said, a little louder than he wanted, as the other opened the door. "I really appreciate you and would like us to be friends, really. But when the day comes, I ask you for only one thing."

He lifted up the briefcase.

"Please don't oppose Mihawk just because of me. By all that will come I wouldn’t want that to happen."

The door behind him fell close; the other was gone.

Zoro fell on the sofa with heavy breathing. How it annoyed him, all these complicated interdependencies, these complicated relationships, this politics, and these lies.

Perona stuck her head out of the adjoining room.

"You’re alright?" She muttered, less anxiously. "It just got pretty loud."

"Everything is okay," he grumbled, opening the documents.

"Geez, I have to say, there's always a lot of drama going on around you, better than any novel I've ever read."

Although he did not reply, he agreed with her. It was exhausting and yet he always let himself be dragged along. Of course, he could not have told Jiroushin the truth, otherwise he would probably have arrived in handcuffs on Mary Joa, but why had he picked up the subject again? And why hadn’t he just told Jiroushin to ask the Shichibukai?

Sighing, he buried his head in the papers.

That was the last time the Vice Admiral visited Lady Loreen’s rooms. His officers always let them know that he wished them a pleasant travel, but he himself did not show up.

It was only when they docked at the above-ground port of Mary Joa that he stood there, in front of his subordinates, and saluted in sync with them.

Instead of a hug, he bowed so deeply Zoro could read the lettering on his cape, and he didn't smile as he got up again, and yet he handed Zoro his hand to disembark.

But as soon as Zoro turned away from the other, he left these problems behind. For in front of him stood Eizen.

-Mihawk-

Even if it was childish, he stood at the dock until he could no longer see the Marine ship.

He sighed heavily and turned around. Now he had ten days of this huge island all to himself and he already knew that he would leave for Mary Joa in exactly ten days, should his little frog not have returned by then.

"My goodness," he murmured to himself and brushed his hair out of his face, "even just thinking it sounds pathetic."

In the middle of the forest, he stopped. The primates were not where they were normally, something was wrong.

With swift steps, he hurried along the neglected paths. There was no one else on the island, so he did not have to worry, well, except for the everyday worries he had when Roronoa met Eizen, especially without his presence.

Nevertheless, he disliked the fact that the primates seemed to gather in the backyard of the castle. This was not a place where he allowed them to be. He needed little time to move around the castle and there he met them. They all backed off terrified when they noted that the lord of the island was coming at them, but he was surprised how long it had taken them to do so.

Like a king, he walked between their lines, recognizing what they had gathered around. Directly at the stair heel, which led up to the back door of the kitchen, lay three open bread baskets. As he peered in, he found that they were filled with sweet pastries, the front two baskets already well emptied.

So that was what she did with what Roronoa and he did not eat. She gave it to the primates.

Slowly he turned around, the humandrills shrugged back.

"Tze."

Then he went up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind him.

What was this naive brat thinking?

Shaking his head, he walked through the cold corridors before arriving in the dark fireplace room and settling on his preferred armchair. On the table next to him lay a small, inconspicuous looking pile of tacked papers, the top sheet was blank, like the back of a book.

Slowly he bent down and lifted it up. The many sheets were neatly bound together, not one side stood out conspicuously, but then a folded piece of paper fell out.

Frowning he bent after it.

_Don’t cut a caper!_

"Tze! This brat."

Then he sat down and began to read.


	29. Chapter 25 - Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I hope you're having a great start into the new week! Mine was pretty busy, so I'm kind of late, but still in time, so here you go ;-)  
> Thank you all for your nice words and comments, I'm always looking forward to them^^
> 
> See you friday!

Chapter 25 - Distance

-Zoro-

He didn't want to admit it, he couldn't admit it, wouldn’t admit it.

After a long briefing with Eizen and his assistant, Ms. Rihaku, Zoro had attended his first official meeting during the early evening of the first day.

At first, Zoro had felt as stupid as back then at the conference of the five islands to which Hawk Eyes had once dragged him, he had been very bored and wondered why he had been even there in the first place.

Just to avoid breaking his contract – and because he had been about to fall asleep – Zoro had begun to follow the lectures, had looked up notes and documents, and he had listened.

With every passing minute Zoro had more and more understood what was at stake, understood what had been discussed and why different opinions had been present. He had started to understand why people had gotten loud when certain names had been thrown into the room.

The delegates of the World Government argued about which contracts with the various kingdoms should be extended, amended, or terminated and what consequences could arise from such decisions.

Eizen attended the meetings on behalf of the World Aristocrats, sitting next to a bald man who was probably the representative of the five elders. Eizen had not promised too much, Zoro was in the heart of the World Government, and he wondered why the politician willingly smuggled in a pirate.

By now the third day had already begun and even if Zoro did not want to realize it, refused to accept it, he could not deny that the whole thing was somehow not so boring.

It was an exaggeration to say that he was having a good time – no, certainly not – yet he wanted to know with which country a war could break out. Why certain kingdoms abolished slavery and what that might mean for their respective economies. Why various natural tribes refused to appoint a common head in order to negotiate with the World Government and whether a violent action against them was necessary.

At the beginning Zoro had started to listen because he had to, because he had been forced to do so. Then he had decided to collect and pick up at least everything that could be useful for his crew and as annoying as it all was, he just couldn't convince himself to simply close his eyes and fall asleep.

He sat next to Ms. Rihaku and skimmed through the current file looking for the chart the lecturer referred to. Meanwhile, the serene woman with the almond-shaped eyes leaned forward and whispered something to her superior.

Zoro had finally found the chart and began to compare it with the documents he had compiled the night before, and at the same time he tried to listen to the speaker.

It wasn't that he was really interested in it, after all, such things had never been important to him. Even the conversations with Mihawk about what was happening in the world had been rather annoying for him. He was not a scholar, no academic, and certainly not a politician.

Things like economic relationships or international peace treaties were terms he had never used before, and yet he was sitting here and felt like he had come to know a new world. A world of which he knew purely nothing, which he had never cared for.

All these things had never been important to him, had not in any way related to his personal life. He shouldn’t care whether the World Aristocrats wanted to buy up the remaining slaves of a royal empire in the West Blue. He shouldn't care if weapons had to be used against the natural people in the Calm Belt. All these issues really didn't matter to his own life.

Nevertheless, he was sitting in this meeting of mighty and powerful politicians and could not prevent from feeling small, almost insignificant, when he thought about all those things he had previously ignored simply out of disinterest.

Already during the first evening he had realized that Mihawk's way of wording would not have been a peculiarity among those people, even more, Zoro slowly wondered whether Mihawk had participated in such meetings, had been trained for such conversations.

He still had no idea why Eizen wanted him to be present, why he was sitting between all these rhetoricians and theorists, but all of the sudden this world seemed so incredibly big to him. So many places were mentioned that he had never heard of. A simple question contained thousands of small problems that were noted and each one was addressed, was discussed.

He wondered what Robin would think of all this, could already see her standing up and expressing her opinion; he could see how she would get involved here to change the world.

Rihaku leaned towards him and explained several things in a soft voice. She had been given the unrewarding task of answering his questions and explaining things he did not understand, and there were many of them. In all honesty, here among all these people, Zoro felt really stupid.

But he didn't try to let it show that easily. Every now and then he whispered to Rihaku his questions and she answered them all. Whether she was annoyed that she had to play Zoro's babysitter, only she knew; her face revealed nothing.

By the early evening the session was over and Zoro followed Eizen and Rihaku into their meeting room; the bald man, who had been sitting next to Eizen, was also present, and Zoro could see from his posture that he was probably a pretty good fighter.

Now they would revise the conference, this work was even less for him, but actually nothing was expected of him, Zoro was a listener, a silent observer. Nevertheless, he sat there and read what Rihaku presented to him and answered the questions that Eizen asked him in between, while the politician mainly talked to the bald guy.

Not a lot was expected of Zoro during this meeting. Eizen seemed to know exactly what he could ask him without making Zoro look like an idiot, for that did not seem to be the intention of the politician. Sometimes he took Zoro's rather simple answers and rephrased his words in such a way that Zoro himself no longer understood them while Ms. Rihaku next to him nodded and even the bald man would cast a glance at him.

The days passed until finally the evening before the day of his departure arrived.

Zoro would have liked to say that time had flown, that he had learned an unspeakably amount about the world and himself, and that he was now a changed person. But it wasn't like that. After only a few days, a constant headache had accompanied him, which had made it impossible to practice Haki at all, and right now Zoro was just glad that this whole mess would soon be over, at least for now.

Currently he was sitting in his room, trying to remember the names of the people who would attend tomorrow's last meeting. He didn't even know why he had to - most of them he would never see again - but he did what Ms. Rihaku told him without questioning.

A sudden knock interrupted his brooding and as he looked up Eizen stood in the door, wearing his impervious sunglasses like most of the times.

"May I come in?" He asked in his typical polite manner before a creepy grin swept any courtesy away. "As I see, you are still hardworking, my dear."

Zoro swallowed and did not respond, but only looked at him coolly. It was the first time the politician visited him in his rooms. Perona was next door to prepare everything for the departure. Now that they were among themselves, the politician did not hide his face behind a mask of courtesy. The old man closed the door behind him.

"And how do you like your first conference?" He asked innocently.

"I still don't understand why you want me to be here, Eizen," Zoro replied calmly. “We both know that I don't understand much about these issues and Ms. Rihaku certainly has more important things to do than to take care of me."

The other smiled and slightly tilted his head.

"I want you to get an idea of how a conference of the World Government works. I want you to see how people behave, how they talk, how they articulate. I want you to be familiar with the matter."

"Why?" Zoro didn't trust him.

“Isn’t it obvious? You will soon take part in these discussions, even lead them."

The stranger's grin grew a bit.

“What?”

"Of course, you do not have to worry. You will be trained beforehand, a mind as simple as yours will need a lot of training before you are ready, and even then, the speeches will be written for you."

Had the other just called him stupid? Zoro wasn't sure, that guy always used so many words.

"Why should I give any speeches you have written for me?"

"Because I tell you to," the other replied with a smile.

"And why do you want me to do that? Why not stand at the podium yourself?"

Now the politician laughed slightly.

"How many times will I have to explain it to you, my dear? It is your destiny, your gift; people will listen to you, trust you. First, we concentrate on subjects moving the masses: war, slavery, famine. This will make you gather a lot of supporters and then we will go into the more sensitive topics, give you the depth and the necessary expertise."

Zoro shook his head.

"Why? Why me?"

"Because hardly anyone is interested in an old politician, in pen-pushers. But you are well known, every week you are in the newspaper and the masses will listen to you."

"You want to misuse me to gain people's trust."

"Not at all, my dear." The other took a step towards him. "On the contrary, I am building you up, making you what few can be. A mission role model, an idol, a symbolic figure. You, my dear, will initiate a new age and you are not even aware of it."

Now the other stood right in front of him and Zoro felt compelled to get up.

"You should be grateful that I take the time to prepare the way for an uneducated chimp like you. Isn't it an eccentric fate that a dirty pirate is destined to change the world?"

Zoro swallowed.

"You are insane, I told you before. Whatever you intend to do will not succeed. I doubt that I can live up to your expectations in the least."

Still broadly grinning, the politician turned around and walked away.

"Oh my dear, despite your limited potentials, you have already exceeded my expectations. Mihawk is your pet dog, so the five islands are already part of your entourage, and you sell yourself far more magnificently than I ever thought possible. I did not expect that you are such a natural at acting. Even Rihaku thinks you are educated and has found a liking in you."

"Why are you here, Eizen? Why are you telling me all this?" Zoro ignored the more obvious side-blows.

At the door, the other looked at him again.

"I want you to be aware of where this journey is leading, my dear. I want to show you what opportunities you will get through me. You will be one of the most powerful people in the world within a few years.”

Then the old man pulled his glasses down slightly so that they stared at each other directly. For a brief moment, his eyes flashed in bright red.

"But above all, I want you to be aware of your situation. The village of Shimotzuki from the East Blue is on an important route for Marine ships, so life there is very peaceful. As you know, tomorrow's meeting will deal with Marine operations. It would be a shame if the route had to be changed for strategic reasons."

Quietly giggling, the other walked out and left Zoro behind.

Breathless, he fell back to his chair.

How could he ever win against this guy? Zoro wanted to break his neck, kill him very slowly, very painfully, and then getting rid of him once and for all. He had thought he was a fellow player, a match to the politician, perhaps even a danger, but no, he was no different from Mihawk, just a pawn on the field of politics.

Exhausted, he buried his head in his hands.

Less than a year ago, he had been in the East Blue, looking for Hawk Eyes, the best swordsman in the world, had led a modest, insignificant life, and now, now he was here, in a world he would never understand.

Slowly, he wondered who he really was by now? Was he still just Roronoa Zoro? Swordsman and pirate?

The delicate fingers before his eyes said something different.

"Damn it!"

He jumped up and hit the table in front of him, to his surprise it flew against the next best wall and crashed to the ground, one leg broke off and rolled over the ground.

Astonished, he looked at his little hands while Perona rushed through the door, her eyes huge as always.

"Tze."

-Mihawk-

Day ten!

Yes, he knew it, he was not a fool, yet he stood in the shade of the trees since sunrise, waiting for a shadow to darken the sky on the distant horizon.

What else should he do?

The last days had been rather dull; the book that Roronoa had translated for him had not even lasted the first evening and Mihawk had read it several times afterwards again during the days that had followed.

Otherwise, he had not been able to do much. The newspaper had occupied him perhaps for an hour every day, only the few articles about the Congress of the World Government had been able to captivate him a little longer.

Had his life always been that boring?

It was not that he had to stand here, waiting for his little frog to come back. Of course, Mihawk was anxious and impatient, but he could be like that just as well in his comfortable armchair at the fireplace. In fact, it was rather the problem that he had absolutely no idea of what to do.

Sighing, he leaned against the next best tree. Since when had his life become so cruelly boring?

He had even started doing paperwork, even though that was the least thing he was interested in. He had tried several times to call Jiroushin, but his friend had not been available. So Mihawk had decided to use his free time to travel to Sasaki to check on his childhood friend – as he had nothing else to do - but Jiroushin had not been there either. At least, he had been able to pick up a package from Kanan. As he had suspected it inheld Roronoa's new clothes. Whatever Kanan had come up with.

Now he was here wondering how long it would take for the Marine ship to appear.

But when the sun was already dangerously close to the horizon, it was not a Marine ship that he could recognize in the distance but one of the World Government.

"This stuck-up twit," he murmured.

Next to the World Aristocrats, there were only one or two people allowed to call such a ship their own. Eizen was one of them, of course, and obviously he had nothing better to do than personally bring Lady Loreen to the front door. Well, at least, he brought Roronoa home on time.

The sun had already started to disappear behind the horizon when the big ship was finally close enough and a small boat was let down into the water.

"Welcome home." He could see the surprise in these wide-open eyes of the youngster as Mihawk handed him a hand as always to come ashore.

He confidently ignored Perona and the officials of the World Government as he helped Roronoa out of the boat, should they take care of the luggage, for he would certainly not.

Roronoa nodded only briefly as a greeting and then made his way to the castle without even saying a word. Apparently, the last ten days had put his little frog in a bad mood.

Quietly smiling, he followed the youngster.

"So," he said, as he caught up with the other after a few steps, "what was it like? What did Eizen want?"

"Can we not talk about him for once?" The other grumbled unusually harsh for his feminine figure. "I'm about to break this bastard’s neck."

"Oh no, was it that awful?" Mihawk couldn’t help but grin at the other's behavior.

But then Roronoa swirled around and Mihawk lost his smile.

Roronoa was not only angry, Mihawk could easily see his emotions, his lower lip trembled, his fists quivered, his eyes wide open, and deep furrows between the eyebrows. Rarely had Mihawk seen him so agitated.

"Can we train, please?!" The other almost growled. "If I don't do something, I will... I can't..."

"I understand," Mihawk nodded, and walked on.

He actually did understand the other very well. This terrible feeling of helplessness, of powerlessness, having to obey someone, one’s own hands tied, exposed to the arbitrariness of others.

He had never actually believed that Roronoa had signed this contract, because _it suited Lady Loreen,_ as the other one had claimed back then. Of course, Eizen blackmailed Roronoa, probably with Mihawk and the people of Sasaki, because there was nothing else he could use, right?

He understood why Roronoa did not tell him; the other knew that Mihawk was not as thoughtful as usual when it came to Roronoa. For this very reason, Mihawk had not yet raised the issue, because it would only lead to a new dispute and the way Roronoa currently acted they could obviously not risk it. Or did Mihawk simply want to avoid the inevitable in order to preserve the fragile peace on this small island?

Silently, they rushed along the forest and finally reached the castle.

"Transform and change, afterwards we will begin immediately."

The other did not even react, but immediately stormed away. A few seconds later the gate behind Mihawk opened and Perona rushed inside, apparently just as mad as Roronoa.

"Are you freaking nuts?!" She yelled at him. "How am I supposed to bring all this luggage to the castle on my own? You could at least…"

Under his gaze, she grew silent.

"That is not my problem," he replied coldly. "Speak, ghost girl, what happened at Mary Joa?"

Still frightened, she dodged his gaze.

"Well, what you would expect," she muttered, “Eizen took Lady Loreen to all those meetings. Zoro was occupied all the time and when he was in the room he did nothing but read, read, and read. I was bored to death."

What was Eizen scheming? Well, Mihawk had his suggestions; the much more important question was why?

He dismissed the girl with a wave of his hand as Roronoa entered the entry hall. Now as a man he seemed even more impressive than a few minutes ago and that although his facial expressions revealed nothing, the lips were a thin line as often, the usual serious face, he looked almost as calm as always. But his eyes spoke volumes, revealing even more than Lady Loreen's agitated face. The demon of the East Blue was obviously awakened.

Mihawk followed the younger one outside, knowing full well that they would not practice complicated techniques, the other had to let off steam, let out his pent-up rage.   
He just wanted to order Roronoa to apply both the Busoshoku and the Kenbunshoku Haki when the other had already done it. Uninterested, Roronoa looked over to him.

"Can we go?" He growled deeply, and then he ran off.

Mihawk sighed heavily but followed the other. It had been exactly his plan, Roronoa should run until he got tired, get everything out of his system, so that he could think clearly again afterwards, and so they ran laps around the island again.

It seemed that the other had trained the use of both skills during his ten-day absence, but not as much as Mihawk had expected. Nevertheless, a lot of time would have to pass before the other began to calm down, not talking about being tired.

For the first eleven rounds, Roronoa chased after an unknown prey and did not slow down at all. Only then did he seem to gradually regain his composure. The sun had set by now and with every second it got darker, not that one of them could be disturbed by it.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" Mihawk offered, easily keeping up with the younger one.

"No!" His serious eyes watched stubbornly straight ahead, but his jaw was cramped. "I want to fight!"

Then the other stared at him almost challengingly.

"I want to fight!"

Disapprovingly, Mihawk shook his head.

"Roronoa, we have talked about this many times, I will not..."

"Mihawk!" Roronoa stopped, his hands clenched into fists.

Mihawk stopped as well and looked at the younger one closely.

"You are still too weak; I could hurt you badly, kill you by mistake."

"Then don't," was all the other replied when he went into combat position.

Neither of them had their swords, Yoru enjoyed its deserved rest in the castle and Roronoa had given his swords to Mihawk at the beginning of his training with Busoshoku Haki.

“Tze, you're impossible," he grumbled. Shaking his head, Mihawk unbuttoned his vest and hung it over the next best tree, bevor he spread his arms out. "Then attack me, Roronoa. Show me how much you have improved."

He was not nearly as calm as he acted, but he had submitted to treating Roronoa not just as a disciple, but more like an opponent, so the other should bear the consequences.

Roronoa did not even wait for his go and attacked.

To Mihawk's surprise, his attacks were not nearly as uncontrolled as he had expected, but highly calculated. The other apparently did not fight emotional despite his obvious anger. Mihawk concentrated on blocking or dodging attacks without having to use Haki himself, for Roronoa was not ready for that yet.

"Not like that!" Roronoa growled between two punches. "Fight back!"

"You are quite presumptuous," he said, letting the other run past him. "Do you really think you would withstand even one attack from me?"

Roronoa wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned at him evil.

“We'll probably never find out if you don't try it.”

Mihawk snorted loudly and shook his head half-grinning.

"Well, you asked for this, so do not complain later."

It was easy, he dodged his opponent’s fists, once, twice und then he hit back!

It was an actual attack, not necessarily a knockout in a real fight, but nevertheless it should be enough to finally teach his little frog a lesson. He smiled as Roronoa threw up his arms just in time and crossed them protectively in front of his head, before Mihawk could smash his face.

But once again the youngster should surprise him, by now that should be boring. Instead of flying wildly through the air, Roronoa only slid several feet back and stopped right in this defending position, his knees bent, his back curved, his face hidden behind his arms, but still standing.

Mihawk looked at the younger one in wonder. It had not been his best attack; he knew that a real blow would be enough to kill the younger one, but still...

How it annoyed him that the other got that much better so quickly.

"Was... that all you’ve got?" Roronoa muttered before his left knee gave in. With both hands he tried to catch himself but flinched his right arm back and grimaced painfully. With this arm he had repelled the direct impact of Mihawk's blow. It did not seem broken but was already swelling unnaturally.

The other breathed heavily but did not let Mihawk out of sight for one second, Roronoa was still in combat mode. Slowly Mihawk approached the youngster before he finally stood in front of him. He could see how Roronoa tried to stand up but was barely able to look at him, yet there was that grin on his face that he should not have after being attacked by Mihawk.

"Tze, cheeky brat!"

He snapped against Roronoa’s forehead with one finger and the other slammed against the next best tree.

"Uff!"

All limbs stretched out, Roronoa remained at the base of the trunk, eyes only half open, apparently having a hard time to breathe. A fine trickle of blood slid down the bridge of his nose just between his eyes and dripped on his lower lip while Roronoa leaned his head against the trunk.

The weak armor Roronoa had been able to produce was broken, and his Busoshoku Haki was also inactive.

Damn, it should not feel so good to teach him a lesson. Yes, Mihawk had to be careful not to taste blood, but he could not hide a grin when he stepped up to the other.

"Satisfied?" He said, nonchalant, but it would be so easy to kick against Roronoa’s side now, to break four or five ribs, no more. Just to teach him a little lesson, just for some little fun, just to give him...

Suddenly the green eyes looked at him intensely and interrupted his trail of thoughts.

"So that's your monster, right?" Roronoa bent forward and coughed.

Mihawk took a step back. But the other just leaned back and laughed hoarsely. Not understanding, Mihawk watched the younger man laugh and complain about his aching body at the same time. 

"I can't get up," Roronoa muttered with a broad grin. “I can't even get up and my right arm hurts like hell. Does it look broken to you?"

Then the other looked at him and held his badly swollen arm.

"The gap between us is still huge."

Mihawk swallowed heavily. It was not nearly as big as he had expected.

"How long do you want to stare at me?" The youngster said, still with this mischievous grin.

Then Mihawk had regained his composure and offered his hand to the other. Carefully he wanted to pull the youngster back on his feet, but Roronoa's legs buckled away under his weight and he would have fallen again if Mihawk had not caught him.

"Pathetic," murmured the other against his shoulder, "I can't even stand on my own."

"Serves you right," he replied, pulling the other's left arm over his shoulder and putting his own right hand around his hip. It would probably be easier to just throw Roronoa over his shoulder or carry him in his arms, but he did not want to; he wanted the other to walk back by himself. "You should not have asked for this."

Mihawk had to bend his knees so Roronoa could even touch the ground, but he did not mind. The other was still breathing heavily as they limped back to the castle in the dark and collected Mihawk's vest on the way.

"But I had to," the younger one muttered softly, "how else am I supposed to see you fight?"

Without answering, he brought the other back inside.

The injuries were not that bad, a few bruised bones, some bruised skin, nothing unusual for their training. But he noticed how much happier the younger one was, nothing left of his bad mood.

Perona had meanwhile brought all the luggage inside, Mihawk did not even care how she had done it, and had already prepared the dinner. He had to admit that she was not totally useless. The dinner had something relaxing, something lively, or did it just feel like that because he had been alone for ten days?

At one point, the two swordsmen strolled over to the chessboard and chatted quietly while Perona cleared up and went to bed. Here, too, Roronoa made slow but certain progress, but much slighter than in sword fighting.

"Mihawk," Roronoa finally muttered as he took one of his pawns from the battlefield. "I have to tell you something. I met Jiroushin." 


	30. Chapter 26 - Haki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> first of all, I am very sorry I haven't posted the last two times. Real life caught up with me and some things happened I had to take care of, so I had no possiblity and no time to post. But now I'm back and I thought about something to make up for it (although it will probably not be good for my stats, but hey, I never really posted for those ;-P ).  
> So to compensate the lost updates - and honestly also to celebrate chapter 26, because it's one of my favorites - I will post this weekend one chapter each day! Yes, that's right. The next chapter (27) will be comming tomorrow, on Saturday, on Sunday it will be chapter 28, and on monday we'll be back on regular updating schedule with chapter 29. So I hope you guys have a lot of free time (or do not need a lot of sleep^^')! Be ready for a whole weekend of our two favorite idiotic swordsmen ;-)
> 
> Oh, and before I forget, on top of that, tomorrow will be the opening night of my new fic 'worth a life', which will be updated weekly, but don't worry, I am well prepared to be able to manage both (yes, if I'm totally honest, those last few weeks kind of sucked with those last days being a sad peak of shittines and I missed working on my fics and communicating with you guys, so I really want to celebrate that I can continue to be part of writing and this fandom, no matter what shit happens in real life, so this is just my way to say thank you to this awesome community)
> 
> And now, I've babbled enough, thank you for your lovely comments, they held me up when things got rough, and now enjoy the show!

Chapter 26 - Haki

-Mihawk-

"I am coming, Roronoa, stop looking at me like that." Yawning, he stretched and walked down the dark hallway.

At the other end, the youngster waited for him, little more than a rough shadow in the darkness, and yet Mihawk was able to recognize him very well.

Kuraigana did not have much of seasons, the weather rarely changed, but like all other islands, this little piece of land was dependent on the sun, which by now had not shown up for days. Much to his displeasure; as the solar time decreased, so did his mood.

But Roronoa was not to be stopped. Every morning he was up early and had probably been running for several laps before Mihawk himself even thought about getting out of bed, but he did not mind. 

Mihawk usually got up around the time the youngster had already showered and eaten breakfast, in whatever order. He personally was not a fan of the most important meal of the day and as long as his coffee was waiting for him in the entrance hall, he was satisfied.

Yesterday evening had been late.

Needless to say, that as always they had been training for hours, but by the time Mihawk had been ready to go to bed, the youngster had unexpectedly appeared in the doorway, holding a green file with the emblem of the World Government.

Rubbing his neck, Roronoa had explained that he had received documents from Eizen but did not understand them. It had been visibly unpleasant and embarrassing for Roronoa. But although Mihawk was reluctant to support Eizen in his intrigues, and although he was not fond of any paperwork at all, he had nevertheless sat down with the youngster and had worked through the documents.

He could not understand why it was so important for the other to deal with the affiliation between international and national law, but it seemed important to Roronoa, so Mihawk had shrugged his shoulders and accepted it without asking further.

It had even been quite entertaining, Mihawk himself had dealt with such things every day years and years ago, but he had always thought of it as tiresome, yet yesterday he had liked to explain those things to the youngster. But maybe only because Roronoa was quite dull when it came to theory.

It was not uncommon for Mihawk to have to repeat himself several times and often he had to check if Roronoa had actually understood it, only to receive a shameful headshaking.

It was obvious that Roronoa had never dealt with things like politics, state structures, and country relations, and often his simple sense of justice and his childish morals stood in his way. It was somehow cute that the youngster often insisted on solidarity and righteousness, almost naively, and those worldviews did definitely not want to fit the bloodthirsty former pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro.

On the other hand, Mihawk had to admit that the other had at least been well prepared. He had known names, places, terms. He had prepared himself before asking for help. No, not only prepared, he had in fact educated himself. Roronoa, for whatever reason, had educated himself in something else than the art of the sword.

Mihawk had actually doubted that the younger one even had the necessary brain capacity. His knowledge and concentration always seemed to orbit solely around sword fighting, and his interest also declined drastically as soon as his beloved sword art was no longer the matter of conversations.

So Mihawk had practiced patience – and yes, he had to be very patient – and helped Roronoa.

But that had happened several hours ago and now it was all about swordfight again.

"You're late," the youngster grumbled disapprovingly, folding his arms.

"Have you slept at all?" Mihawk replied, yawning for another time as he caught up with the other.

"At my age, a few hours are enough." Roronoa grinned evil while Mihawk glared at him.

Sighing, he walked past the other.

"Will you ever be tired of mocking me because of my age?" He muttered as the other followed him.

"Not as long as you make it that easy for me," Roronoa chuckled, and it sounded almost childish.

Shaking his head, Mihawk kept walking and quickly reached the entrance, where, as usual, a cup of hot coffee was waiting for him.

"Did you do everything as I told you?" He said more calmly, taking a sip.

"If you are talking about me not transforming overnight, then yes, I didn't." 

Thus, Roronoa had been in his original form for exactly one day by now.

"And how long do you have until you will have to turn back?"

Mihawk had a plan, after all, he never let it be a matter of chance like a certain someone.

"The way it feels I guess not more than two hours," the other replied, closing in on him as they left the castle. "But why? What’s the deal behind it?"

With his eyebrow raised, he looked down to the younger one and now he was the one, who smiled evil.

"In my humble opinion you are ready," he finally replied as they reached the ruins. "Today is the day."

For a second, the other looked at him confused, but then he grew pale.

"What? But my armor is still everything but strong and hardening only works so-so, so I don’t..."

"Roronoa, I am the teacher here; I decide what we are doing and when I say you are ready, you are ready."

Since the youngster had returned from his trip with Eizen, several weeks had passed and Roronoa had steadily improved, his control had reached a quite passable quality during this time and he was now able to harden his body for a short amount of time, and the six months that Roronoa had set himself were not over just yet.

It was time to take the next step. Of course, they could still spend weeks perfecting the two Haki forms, but that was unnecessary. Roronoa would not need Mihawk for that, he could continue that training on his own if necessary.

No, they slowly had to start with the sword fight, to actually fight, but for that, Roronoa had to learn how to expand his armor around objects and Mihawk knew that Roronoa was afraid of it. He was afraid that the object would break in his hand and that he would lose control; a legitimate fear, Mihawk even admitted, but nevertheless they could not be stopped by it.

If Mihawk was honest, he actually wanted to see it. He wanted to see what was going to happen. On the one hand, he could only deal with the problem if he knew what it was all about, and on the other hand, the story of the youngster had made him curious.

With quiet movements, he took off his vest and watched attentively how the younger man behaved. Roronoa had turned his gaze away and was breathing heavily, obviously he was worried, even if he did not show it as clearly as Mihawk had expected.

"Try to relax," he gently advised, "everything will be fine."

The other met his eyes briefly before looking away again.

Mihawk, however, was not a fool, he had made arrangements. Roronoa was already near the edge of having to turn into Loreen, so if he would lose control in case of a case, he would probably turn automatically or at least within a short time and Mihawk suspected that this monster was only part of Roronoa Zoro and not of Lady Loreen.

Of course, these were all just speculations, and even Mihawk could be wrong, but he was quite certain.

"Well, let us start."

He could see the other tensing up, his hands clenched to fists, his jaw tightened, this way nothing would be going to work.

Quietly, he sighed.

"Look, Roronoa, I said look up! I will demonstrate what you have to do." Effortlessly, he lifted a bamboo stick from a prepositioned mountain of bamboo pipes and held it to the other.

Surprised, the younger one did look up finally.

"What? Did you think we would start with real swords?"

"Uhm..."

"I might like the challenge, but do you really think I would risk destroying a sword?"

He smiled quietly as Roronoa nodded to himself and took a deep breath.

"It is actually quite easy, activating Busoshoku Haki, hardening, coating. The last two points can be exchanged at will. Depending what is appropriate to the situation." While he was speaking, he had done just that, and he was delighted to see Roronoa's eyes grow large as the bamboo turned black.

"I repeat," he said, "look carefully: Busoshoku, hardening, coating."

This time he slowed down so Roronoa could watch exactly what he was doing.

The youngster already knew enough about the theoretical basics, after all they had spent many evenings at the chessboard discussing them, nevertheless Mihawk sometimes liked to repeat one or the other.

"And now it is your turn." He offered the bamboo to the other. "Now take it, it does not bite, promised."

Again, he could not prevent a smile when Roronoa looked at him with something that could have been annoyance, if it were not for the obvious uncertainty. Then the other grabbed the stick as if his life depended on it.

"Why don't you let go?" The younger one asked, astonished.

"I need to be able to determine exactly what you are doing to see your mistakes. It is easier if I touch the object you try to coat.”

The younger one just nodded and said nothing.

"Ready?" He asked, and Roronoa nodded again. "Well, then as I showed you. First Busoshoku.”

The other followed his instructions.

"Harden now, hands and forearms are enough. Not that you exhaust yourself right away."

Mihawk wondered if Roronoa did notice how easy it was for him to use hardening by now and that without being limited in his movement in the least. Again, Roronoa took a deep breath, his eyes stubbornly directed at the bamboo stick.

"And now coat up to the half."

For a fraction of a second, the other's gaze flashed up to him, and another wrinkle of concern formed on his serious face.

"Relax Roronoa. It will be alright.”

"I know," the other growled, and slowly Mihawk could watch the black coat spreading over the stick.

“Oh.”

"What... what is it?"

Almost automatically, the armor disappeared when Roronoa let go of the bamboo and even stepped half a step back, sounding as frightened as Jiroushin when Mihawk pointed out a spider.

"Do not just let go, Roronoa. If it had been something bad, I would have taken the stick away from you."

"Yes, but... what did you notice?" The younger man looked at him seriously, but his eyes were different than usual and Mihawk realized that he did not like the way the other looked right now, although he could not define exactly why.

"I am not quite sure yet."

“What?”

Scoldingly he raised his free hand.

"What do you expect? You let go far too quickly. Come on, do it again."

In response, he offered the stick again and Roronoa reached out. Almost instantly, the end that the other held turned black.

"That is enough," Mihawk muttered, analyzing what was happening. He could feel the tingling of the foreign Haki, which flooded the stick, washing into every opening like black oil and covered everything, every gap, every little pore.

Astonished, he exhaled as he watched the plant unfold in front of his inner eye. More and more Haki swept across the fibers, soaked them. The coating became stronger and stronger.

"That is enough, Roronoa, just try to hold this state..."

The stick broke.

Surprised, both men looked at the bamboo, only held by Mihawk now while the finest shards slithered between Roronoa's black-colored fingers to the ground.

Then they exchanged glances.

"Interesting," he muttered, looking more closely at the fracture.

"Interesting?" The younger one replied not quite as calm as Mihawk was used to. “It happened again. Damn it! It happened again! I told you it would happen! Maybe..."

"Maybe you should not be rushing to conclusions," Mihawk immediately interrupted the other, who was definitely not as calm as usually. "At the end of the day, have you lost sanity or not?"

Roronoa stared at him with big eyes, apparently just now realizing that he had not.

"One has not as much to do with the other as you might think."

"But you know what happened?" The other asked as Mihawk threw away the broken bamboo and picked up a new one.

"Of course."

"And what?!" The younger one had taken a step towards him and looked up to him demandingly.

"It means you have an abnormal talent, nothing else."

"How... how do you mean that?"

He bent down to the other, so that their eyes were separated by only a few centimeters.

Oh, how he hated, that the other was so almost supernaturally gifted in every discipline. If Roronoa had grown up with him, this unpolished diamond would have overtaken him within a few years, for Mihawk had never been as diligent as the other.

“Mihawk!”

Had he just been absentmindedly daydreaming for a second?

"It is because of how you let your Haki flow. For most users, the coating lays over the objects like a viscous slime. Some even take almost a dozen seconds to coat something simple like this bamboo here."

Roronoa looked at him suspiciously.

"With a lot of practice, they usually get faster. But what you are doing is quite different. Like oil, your Haki infiltrates every little pore, but covers everything evenly like a protective film. It is quite fascinating.”

Doubtful, the younger one looked at him. "The way you describe it, it all sounds nice and good, but why did the stick break?"

"Have I not just explained it to you?" He replied with a grin. "Whether intentional or not, instead of just wrapping the stick from the outside, you let your Haki surround each single pore, no, each single cell. Even experienced Haki users would have difficulty with this precise application.

“But there is also a reason why you usually learn this form of application much later. The problem is the thicker the coating, the more the individual cells are pressed apart until the bamboo or sword finally bursts."

"Oh," Roronoa muttered, looking at his hands, which were still discolored, "that is, if I manage to just coat the stick as a whole, it won't break."

"Exactly," he agreed, "however, I always cover every single cell of my sword."

"What? Why?"

Now he grinned.

"Simple reasons. An armor around a sword protects it, but a strong hardening consumes an incredible amount of Haki and is therefore very strenuous in the long run. However, if you encase every single cell, it is almost impossible to break the sword and you need much less Haki. For this, of course, cell hardening requires much more concentration."

Dissatisfied, Roronoa looked at the bamboo stick in Mihawk's hand.

“But doesn’t that contradict itself? You say that the cell hardening makes the sword indestructible, and yet the stick broke because of it."

"You let it burst, that is a small but subtle difference. Therefore, only excellent Haki users can apply this specialization. The trick is to enclose each cell evenly without making the armor too thick. If you do this, your sword will not burst."

Thoughtful, the younger man tilted his head, probably still not satisfied.

"But I thought that the hardness of the coat is crucial to who wins the fight. But if cell coating must not exceed a certain thickness, then it is still weaker than the general hardening."

Mihawk sighed. "A general misconception, which unfortunately is still taught by many. The thickness of the coat does not say anything about its hardness. A hair-width armor can be harder and stronger than a finger-width hardening."

Now Roronoa looked at him again. "That is, if I can control the thickness of the coat, the stick will not burst?"

Mihawk nodded. "Exactly, your problem is that naturally you carry a lot of Haki and you are not able just yet to control its flow. You simply let your Haki flow unhindered into the stick. You have to learn how much energy you need to use at what time. This is something easily achieved by practice. The only difference between you and others is that you already apply the cell coating automatically and do not have to learn it until after you have mastered the basics. That is why those objects burst. A more experienced Haki user would be able to control the flow."

The other was silent.

"What is it, Roronoa? Do you not understand? Where did I lose you?"

"You didn’t," the younger one calmly disagreed, "I just wonder what happened back then. If you say that the bursting of the sword could have happened to anyone, why did I go berserk?"

Now the other looked at him.

"I do not know," Mihawk honestly admitted, "so far, the only unusual thing is just your outrageous talent." He offered the staff to the other. "But if we keep working, we might find out."

Roronoa took a deep breath, then he reached out. Within seconds, the staff broke again.

"You have to concentrate. If you let your Haki flow out like this, you will not last fifteen minutes."

He took the next stick and the next and the next.

As easy as it was for Roronoa to use Busoshoku Haki, as difficult it was for him to control it. Mihawk could literally see the streams out of pure energy flowing out of his fingers. One stick after another broke, and with each one Roronoa got more and more exhausted. Soon he would be too tired to maintain his armor, but he did not give up yet. The mountain of broken bamboo behind Mihawk grew while teaching and correcting the younger one.

"I don't understand," Roronoa grumbled between heavy breaths. “How am I supposed to control it, I don't know how it should feel.”

"Then let me show you."

Mihawk instructed the other one to take the stick without coating it. Then he hardened his own hand and deliberately let his Haki slid slowly into the fibers. He had covered nearly two-thirds of the staff.

"Now you, only up to half and then observe the flow of my Haki."

"I didn't even know you could overlap Haki," the younger man grumbled strained. Sweat dripped down his face. He seemed quite exhausted and Mihawk was not sure if it was because he would have to transform into Loreen in a few minutes or because he was almost drowned of his Haki.

Suddenly, a strange feeling passed through Mihawk, almost as if someone were pulling at his soul. His gaze chased down to the all-black stick, which in the next moment shattered to finest dust.

Mihawk stumbled to the side and took a deep breath. Why was he suddenly breathing so hard? This exercise was not exhausting, just the overlay of two armors, nothing that was usually done, but also not that unusual in training.

Why had it been so exhausting for him?

"Roronoa, something here was odd just now. We should try it again, you think, you could... Ugh!"

He stumbled several steps back and almost lost his balance. The other's right hand clawed into his left shoulder!

Mihawk gasped up in surprise rather than pain and hurled the younger one away, who tore some scraps of skin and meat out of his body.

Touching his shoulder, Mihawk could feel the warm blood wetting his hand and soaking his shirt.

"What in heaven’s... Roronoa?"

His little frog had flown several meters away and crashed against the next best ruin, but now he rose again, remaining in a bent posture, his hands cramped like grotesque claws.

Silently, the other approached him, slowly, almost elegantly like a predator, and then Roronoa rose to his full size.

Except that it was no longer Roronoa.

His whole posture had changed, he stared confidently at Mihawk, his head slightly tilted, his shoulders a little too far back, his arms dangling loosely backwards.

A broad, almost animalistic grin distorted his facial features, but it was these wide-open eyes that had absolutely nothing to do with Roronoa Zoro, had absolutely nothing humanely left. The deep green, which had once been there, and could show or hide emotions too easily, had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but pure greed for blood.

"So, this is your monster?" Mihawk asked and regarded the other.

By now he doubted his pretty theory; Roronoa would not turn into Loreen, even though his time was up. Oh no, this was Mihawk’s problem now.

"How bothersome," he grumbled, looking at his shoulder. He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Was that really necessary, Roronoa? Look at the shirt, it is ruined," he complained halfheartedly.

The other laughed quietly, but it was not a human laugh, it sounded insane.

"Oh really, so much cliché at once, are you serious? Wait, stop that, that is unsanitary."

He turned his gaze away as the other raised his right hand and caught one or two drops of blood with his tongue before licking along a bloody finger.

"Uh." So much barbarism was too much for Mihawk. He shook his head in disgust. "Why does everyone always become an insane berserker? Why does your madness not make you more civilized for once?"

The next moment, the monster in front of him attacked.

Mihawk sighed and moved to the side.

The first attack had been a lucky strike. He had been distracted by the overlay of the Hakis and had not expected for a second that the other would lose control. Only because of that the youngster had even been able to hurt him and, of course, because Mihawk had dissolved his Haki in that very second because of that odd sensation. 

But now, of course, the whole thing looked different.

"The question is just what happens to you the longer this state lasts," he muttered calmly.

One second, he regarded the other; almost like an aura, Roronoa’s life energy spilled out of his body and wafted in the air. The monster stole his energy to become more powerful, sucked out his host until only an empty shell would remain, at least it seemed like that.

Mihawk suspected that Roronoa would die sooner or later if he was not stopped.

"Oh, how troublesome." The next moment Mihawk stood next to the youngster and deliberately punched him in the neck. Roronoa fell unconscious to the ground. "And you really thought this monster could be dangerous to me?"

Shaking his head, he threw the other over his unharmed shoulder and made his way back.

At least, he had now seen it, had finally seen it, now he finally knew what Roronoa was so desperately afraid of. No wonder the Marines were overwhelmed back then.

Mihawk wondered how this fight would have turned out if he would not have any previous knowledge, if Roronoa had not warned him beforehand. Perhaps it would have become a little more dangerous, or at least interesting.

Thoughtfully, he climbed up the steps to the front door and walked in.

"Oh, you're back... what happened?!" Perona had obviously been waiting for them and was now staring at him in shock.

"You're hurt!" She remarked, horrified, pointing at his still bleeding shoulder.

"Oh my, what a power of observation," he commented cold, walking past her, into the depths of the castle.

Arriving in Roronoa's room, he carefully placed him on his bed. Now his little frog looked as innocent as always, like the little demon he was.

Shaking his head, Mihawk went to the adjacent bathroom and ripped the destroyed shirt from his body, which had already turned completely red.

For a moment, he inspected the injury. Five lines of different widths and depths had gnarled into his flesh, almost like the claws of an animal.

"I got the first aid kit," he suddenly heard the voice of the ghost girl next door.

He took another glance at the injury before going out, shaking his head.

"That will not be necessary, ghost girl."

Unimpressed, she raised an eyebrow.

"Have you even looked at yourself? You're still bleeding.”

"It will stop soon," he replied gruff.

"Don't make such a fuss; you're worse than Zoro."

He allowed her to do what she needed. It was useless to argue with her about such a trivial thing and besides he had to admit he wanted to have some peace, so he preferred her shutting up even if that meant that he had to allow her treating his wound.

"Listen," he told Perona as she took care of his shoulder, "we will not tell Roronoa about this scratch," he decided.

" _Scratch_?" She repeated ironically. “Wasn't he there? Why do you want to hide that from him?"

"Because I know him," was all he answered as he regarded the peaceful face of his ward.

She murmured between gritted teeth and then left.

But, as so often the case, Mihawk remained seated on his chair next to Roronoa's bed. How long would it take for the other to wake up? Maybe he should get a new shirt quickly.


	31. Chapter 27 - Respect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody!
> 
> So, here's the next chapter for this weekend! I hope you'll enjoy it^^
> 
> See you tomorrow^^

Chapter 27 - Respect

-Mihawk-

A quiet groan interrupted the calm silence.

He looked over his newspaper to the slender figure in the white four-poster bed, who had hardly moved, but his eyes were now squinted in pain.

Satisfied, Mihawk folded his favorite reading and put it on the small nightstand, Roronoa would soon wake up.

It was about time, the sun had left the horizon a few minutes ago, a new day had dawned. During the night, Roronoa had turned back into Loreen. After the monster had left him, his body had been too exhausted to resist his eternal curse for much longer.

Mihawk let his gaze wander through the younger man's room as he waited for Roronoa to finally come to his senses. It still looked exactly the same as when Roronoa had moved in; the room was plain and empty, the few pieces of furniture seemed unused and dusty. Only the old-fashioned dresser and the adjacent shelf seemed as if Roronoa would use them.

Curiosity had tried to persuade Mihawk to take a closer look at the documents on the shelf – especially the contract with Eizen, which Roronoa still withheld from him – but he had decided against it.

That surprised himself the most. He had never bothered to care about such things, but here and now he did not want to jeopardize the trust that grew between him and the youngster.

Sighing, he rubbed his face with one hand. He had indeed changed a lot. Then his gaze fell on the younger man, whose eyelids trembled slightly, before he finally opened his eyes with a slight sigh.

"Good morning, Roronoa."

He could not prevent a smile as the other's misty eyes swayed over to him. Rorona wanted to say something, but nothing more than a miserable whimper came over his lips.

"Calm down, Roronoa. I am sure your body is still too exhausted. You are probably not going to be able to move for a few hours."

Roronoa blinked briefly and sighed deeply. Although his body was dull and powerless, he seemed to be mentally awake. His just blurred gaze was now purposefully directed at Mihawk and without even saying a word, Mihawk knew what the other wanted to know from him.

"You do not remember what happened, do you?"

The youngster blinked again and Mihawk nodded.

"Yes, I expected that. Then it is apparently really like what happened in your childhood.” Then he crossed his legs and stroked his beard. "Well, I will tell you what happened. If you have any questions, you can still ask them later."

Once again, he noticed how unfamiliar it was for him that Roronoa was easily staring at him so directly. Most people avoided his gaze, but Roronoa sought eye contact and easily withstood him, and now, in this weakened state, it impressed Mihawk even more.

"Be that as it may, I have my guess what happened to you, but let us start at the beginning." He leaned slightly forward, so it was easier for him to read the younger's gaze, as Rorona’s face betrayed little more than his silent mouth.

"As you can remember, I asked you to overlay my armor coating the bamboo stick. I wanted you to perceive my Haki flow to understand what your goal is. But then something happened that even I did not expect." Grinning, he watched Roronoa stare at him from squinted eyes. His right eyebrow twitched dangerously, and he breathed deeply. "When your armor overlapped mine, you absorbed my Haki."

Now Roronoa's eyes widened and it was more than clear that the other was trying to straighten up, but nothing happened and there was nothing more than a dissatisfied sigh. Mihawk laughed quietly.

"Yes, I have to admit that even I have never heard of such an ability," he still grinned, "and yet I have no doubt about my ability to observe. But I am not done yet. Immediately after you soaked up my Haki, you fell into the madness you have told me about. I think we agree that there is a connection between those things. As you know, Haki is nothing more than life energy that has been given a form. The higher the naturally occurring Haki within a person, the more likely it is that they carry the King's predisposition, but we will cover that subject on another day. I suspect that you used a lot of your own Haki through the workout, maybe even a life-threatening amount, without you being able to stop it."

The younger one watched him seriously, nothing showed what Roronoa was thinking, and that would not change until he could move, so Mihawk continued: "It is one of your eccentricities to meet your own limits and to go even beyond. But I believe that in this case your inner monster overwhelmed you the moment you absorbed my Haki. Probably to save your own life." Thoughtfully, Mihawk rubbed his neck. "Despite this, it is downright worrying, because while you had fallen into your madness your Haki might have reached an unforeseeable level, but at the same time your life energy just flowed out of you unhindered. If I had not stopped you, this enormous loss of power would have killed you within a few minutes. That is why you are so exhausted."

He got up sighing.

"You should sleep a little bit for now and recover. As soon as you get better, we can talk about your future training."

Roronoa wanted to reply, but his body betrayed him again and he was not able to do more than an awkward moan.

"Calm down, Roronoa. Now is not the time for talks. I have told you everything of importance so that you can now rest in peace. So, sleep, otherwise I will call for the ghost girl to watch over you."

The younger one snorted disapprovingly and Mihawk took it as a sign to go.

For a second he thought about going to sleep, after all, he had spent the previous night at the bedside of his little frog again, but then he chose the way to the fireplace room. In the entrance hall, he met the ghost girl, who had just closed the heavy gate behind her, a huge, empty basket in her arm.

"Tze." Mihawk stopped. "Ghost girl, I allow you to stay, but I do not like how you waste my food."

"My name is Perona!" She replied with her head raised high, looking at him seriously. "May his Lordship remember that." She seemed to be in quite a bad mood, not that he cared. "Also, since when do you care about something like food? With your wealth, you probably wouldn’t even notice a few loaves more or less."

She hurriedly walked past him, in the direction of the kitchen.

"Do you really think your behavior will change anything about the situation?" He asked coolly, looking at her. "No matter how much food you bring them, the Humandrills will still kill you at the first opportunity. It is in their nature and your sacrificial charity will not change that."

"Well?!" The ghost princess had stopped but did not turn to him. "That's not what it's about!"

He slightly tilted his head. "And what is this all about?"

"Oh, as if you would understand, after all, you have a heart of stone!" She wanted to go on but stopped at the door again. "Well, unless it's about Zoro, of course."

With those words, she disappeared.

Mihawk, who was not even impressed by her words, was left behind. Of course, he understood why she kept bringing the leftovers to the Humandrills, and usually he decided to ignore it. However, he really doubted that her good-naturedness would bear fruit. The primates of this island had only experienced conflict and war for generations, a girl with pink braids who brought a basket of old baked goods every few days would not change much.

Even the ridiculous side-blow at the end of her act was not even enough to offend him. After all, it was an open secret that Roronoa was his weakness, and it was not the first time the ghost girl had interpreted more into their relationship than it actually was.

A few seconds later, he threw himself on his favorite chair and pulled the newspaper out again, even though he had already read it. In doing so, he decided to ignore the awkward tingle of his shoulder.

However, he was not able to ignore Perona’s voice in his head.

Sighing, he got up and decided to call his childhood friend, but once again, Jiroushin could not be reached. Mihawk scratched his head before finally shaking his head and deciding not to brood about useless thoughts.

-Zoro-

He should stay in bed. He should calm down. He should sleep a little more.

But, oh, how he couldn’t wait to kick this stupid Shichibukai’s ass.

Not only could Zoro not move at all, no, this bastard had just told him that he not only had gone crazy again, but had also absorbed Haki, only to then cut off and leave him alone here. Alone in an empty room, unable to move, his thoughts running in circles.

So it had happened again; Zoro had used the Busoshoku Haki again, and once again he had no memories of what had happened.

He remembered how Hawk Eyes had hardened the bamboo and then asked him to do the same, and then the next thing he knew was waking up in his bed, for what had happened in between, he could do nothing but believe Mihawk. 

The ability to absorb Haki.

He had never heard of anything like this, no, such ability could not exist and why should he be able to do such a thing? And why was it related to the fact that he was going crazy?

Zoro understood nothing at all. But at least one thing he got: Mihawk didn't even seem to be thinking about giving up training, giving him up. Whatever had happened, it didn't seem to have shocked the Shichibukai as much as Zoro had feared.

No, if he was quite honest, the other had seemed rather curious, almost excited.

So maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for Zoro.

He sighed heavily. Rarely did he struggle with his past, but right now he wondered what could had been if he had learned to fight under Mihawk's sharp eyes from the very beginning. No, that was ungrateful to his master, to his past. It was unfair to Kuina.

In addition, the Shichibukai would never have taken a pretentious brat under his wing – and who knew what kind of dick the other had been 15 years ago - even now Zoro sometimes wondered why the other was so easily influenced by him.

Zoro had heard several times that after their first encounter, Mihawk had paid more attention to him than what should have been normal, and of course he had also noticed that, despite all their differences - and there were many of them - they also had some similarities.

As far as the art of the sword was concerned, they shared a similar view and an equally deep respect for the swords that Zoro had never experienced before with any other swordfighter.

Zoro could not deny any longer that they had a meaningful friendship, but would the Shichibukai have supported him back then if he had not been so obsessed with him? Why was Mihawk so crazy about him in the first place?

Zoro knew that he had left an impression with his willingness to die for his dream, that he might even had impressed Mihawk. But was that reason enough for some stranger to find out about all the incidents of Zoro and his crew?

Once again, he sighed, such thoughts would not help him now. Things were as they were, and Zoro knew that on that fateful day he would have been far too proud to ask the Shichibukai to become his teacher. Zoro had only learned this humility through the people who were more important to him than his own pride.

So now, after all these annoying circumstances, in the body of a young woman, bound by a contract to a politician, he was here for two years on an island with the best swordsman in the world. Only so that he would get better, only for him to become strong enough to protect himself and then his crew, only for him to finally defeat the man who was now training him.

So now he was here and couldn't move, but he minded much less than he expected.

Actually, Zoro was in quite a good mood.

At that time as a child, his master had treated him calmly, but Zoro had known that he too had been terrified by what had happened. They both had believed that his Haki skills had been somehow impaired, damaged, flawed.

Mihawk, on the other hand, had not been disillusioned in the least, not even talking about being intimidated. For him it seemed to be nothing more than a new challenge, like an exciting chess game and somehow, yes somehow, that made Zoro feel better.

How bad could it be if even the monster within him wasn't able to scare the world's strongest swordsman?

He shook his head slightly, so apparently his fear of hurting the other had really been needless. Even his monster had not been able to, although that kind of made the other seem even more invincible, but that wouldn’t stop Zoro from chasing him.

Oh, he just noticed that his body seemed to be slowly moving again, it was about time. Even though he was aware that he had been immobile for much longer back then. Zoro suspected that the Shichibukai had broken his manic state faster than his master had been able to.

How much he would like to talk to the old Koshiro again, one day he would return to the East Blue and tell his teacher everything. With this thought, he actually allowed himself to fall asleep.

But at some point, he woke up again. Since his room was still flooded by daylight, he assumed that it was still – or again – day.

To his surprise, however, it was not the Shichibukai, who sat on the chair next to his bed, but Perona.

She was knitting and hadn't even noticed he had woken up.

"What are you doing here?" He grumbled, having a hard time sitting up, and his tongue felt swollen and heavy. He felt no pain, only an annoying, numb feeling creeping through his limbs and made them tingle now and then.

Surprised, the young woman looked up and then a slight smile crept on her lips.

Zoro didn’t understand why she had decided to stay on this island and most of the time he had to agree with Mihawk that she was annoying, but actually she was no worse than Nami and as soon as she ran out of sugar she was even an okayish cook. At least she was better than if Zoro had to cook by himself, and he had to hand it to her, she always took care of his injuries – although that was also annoying – and joined every stupid charade they had to come up with.

"Well, looking after you, what else?" She replied, not half as snappy as she probably had intended. "Hawk Eyes said you had a breakthrough or something, but I have no idea what he means by that, after all, you almost slept through a whole day and besides, you have..."

One of her knitting needles fell to the ground.

"Oh, damn it! Doesn't matter. I'll probably never understand this weird guy. He's such a snob and always in such a bad mood. How can you like him? He's so nasty to me all the time, he didn't even call me by my name just once.”

With a slight smile, Zoro raised an eyebrow. In relation to the named snob, the conversations with her rarely caused headaches, except when she switched from one subject to another within one sentence.

"That may be because you're pretty disrespectful," he said, disinterested.

"What? What are you talking about? As if you know what manners are, you ill-bred ruffian."

Unimpressed, he withstood her gaze.

"That has nothing to do with respect. Doesn't matter with which knife you cut the meat, but why should the lord of the house treat you with respect if you can't even call him by his name?"

Surprised, her already oversized eyes grew a bit more.

"How do you mean that?"

Sighing, he slightly patted his tingling legs.

"He doesn't like the nickname 'Hawk Eyes', haven't you noticed that yet?"

Now she looked almost ashamed at her knitwear...

"Oh, he doesn't like when I call him that," she muttered visibly concerned, "and that's why he's so mean to me?"

Zoro shrugged. Actually, he couldn’t care less how the Shichibukai treated the Perona, but yeah she sometimes was naïve like a child.

"Well, to be honest, I think that’s just one of the reasons," he murmured, scratching the back of his head.

"What? But what are the others?" She exclaimed, sliding forward in her chair. "Why is he only nice to you? To me, he's always so mean, even worse than you."

Zoro doubted this statement and shrugged his shoulders again.

"As I said, it has something to do with respect. I think it's more your general way, you're just annoying him.”

"But why? What can I change so he stops bullying me?"

Slowly she moved closer.

"How am I supposed to know?" He grumbled dismissive. "And why do you care what he thinks of you? If you just want to please others, you’ll end up miserable.”

She tilted her head.

"What are you talking about? I just want to be able to live here without him constantly musing that I could die."

Zoro sighed unnerved. Slowly the tingling subsided, soon he would be able to leave the bed and please also this conversation.

"You forget who Mihawk is," he finally said, and decided to actually help her. "You have to work for his appreciation. No idea how to do it, quite honestly. But I don't think he'll like you just because you're feeding some wild monkeys through the winter. You constantly talk about how worried you are about Moria, but you don't want to leave the island or look for him. I just believe that Mihawk has no interest in you, because you don't follow your empty words with deeds."

To his astonishment, she seemed surprisingly serious.

"Mihawk will not respect you just because you are useful in the castle or because you are helping someone else out of friendliness."

For a moment, she seemed to be thinking, plucking at her braids again.

"But what do I have to do?" She asked him.

"Well, I would stop asking me what and think for yourself."

Dissatisfied, she puffed her cheeks.

"But he respects you."

Shaking his head, Zoro threw both legs over the edge of the bed.

"There's no magic trick to make people like you, Perona. Mihawk and I have similar opinions and seriously engage with the art of sword, maybe that's why he respects me. But you have to ask him if you really want to know."

He got up unsteady, hadn't even tried to turn into his true form again, knowing that he wouldn't make it at the moment. Leaving the thoughtful Perona behind, he staggered through the depths of the castle until he finally arrived in the large fireplace room, for once without getting lost at all.

As expected, he found Mihawk there, who seemed visibly surprised by his appearance.

"Should you not be lying in bed right now?” Mihawk asked with a slight smile, looking up from the little book in his hand. "Your legs still seem quite shaky."

"Shut up," Zoro grumbled unimpressed, and dropped on the sofa opposite of the Shichibukai. The short walk from his room to here had already exhausted him. How he hated to be permanently exhausted.

"I'm here," he muttered grumpily, "so let's talk about the training plan!"

The elder nodded and folded the book.

"As you wish." A nasty grin crept over the facial features of the best swordsman in the world. "Of course I cannot draw all the conclusions from one single test just yet, still I do have a plan."


	32. Chapter 28 - Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wonderful sunday to all of you!!
> 
> Here is the next chapter, I hope you'll enjoy, and tomorrow we'll be back in our old rhythm ;-) 
> 
> Thank you all for taking the time to comment, especially right now it really means a lot to me! Thank you!

Chapter 28 - Lessons

-Zoro-

"Are you sure?" He grumbled doubtfully.

The other rolled his eyes excessively.

"Would I otherwise make this proposal, Roronoa? Trust me."

Now Zoro rolled his eyes in annoyance. For another second, he looked at the other man with disapproval, but then he took a deep breath and nodded.

Mihawk offered his arm covered with Haki.

After checking the previous day that his Haki skills had not been damaged in the slightest by his maniac moment, they had tried to see if Zoro could use his odd ability in Loreen's form as well, but he had failed miserably and had confirmed Mihawk's presumption that he, as Loreen, couldn’t absorb Haki and wouldn’t lose control.

This had calmed him down a bit, but the new experiment was enough to get his pulse up again.

Today Zoro himself had not used any Haki to make sure that he had enough for whatever his teacher had planned for him. Mihawk did not want to provoke the monster in him at all today but focus on this other ability only to determine if the two were connected or not.

Zoro's task today was actually quite easy: he was supposed to absorb Mihawk's Haki. But this training method was simply stupid in his opinion. What would happen if he took too much of the other's Haki? What would happen if he would go berserk again? What if his inner demon could hurt the other?

"Calm down, Roronoa. Even if you succumb to your mania again, I will still be strong enough not to fall victim to you."

"What makes you so sure?" Zoro grumbled doubtfully, but the other was just smiling.

“Please do not underestimate me. I am a capable fighter, even without my sword, and plain power will not be enough to defeat me."

His self-confident could sometimes be really annoying and yet Zoro somehow calmed down. He never forgot who the other was. Even if Mihawk was lazing around in his large armchair or cut out recipes from the newspaper for Kanan, Zoro never forgot that the man in front of him was the best swordsman in the world.

Yet he had to admit that he sometimes forgot what that meant.

Mihawk was not only an outstanding strategist and master of his art, no, to get and keep this title it needed more, it needed strength, perseverance, skill, courage, and things Zoro didn't even know how to name.

Sometimes Zoro forgot that the man in front of him was anything but just some teacher and scholar.

Mihawk was built slimmer than Zoro, more athletic, similar to the cook, perhaps that was why Zoro did not necessarily associate such figure with strength. Yes, the cook wasn't a bad fighter, a pretty good fighter even – although Zoro would never admit it out loud – but Zoro had always been superior to him in terms of strength. Only through his nimble legs he had been able to keep up with Zoro.

Now he looked at the other; was he really so naive to underestimate the best swordsman in the world solely because of his built?

"Pay attention, Roronoa," Mihawk ordered him. “We do not have all day. Let us start."

Nodding to himself, Zoro decided to discard this thought for the time being and concentrated on the task in front of him. Deeply inhaling he reached out. At first, nothing happened. Mihawk's black colored arm felt hard and almost cold under his fingers, more like metal than living flesh. But then, almost casually, it felt like drops of cold water slipping up his fingertips, over the back of his hand and his palm.

Mihawk had been right with his guess.

"Interesting," the older one mumbled, and Zoro's gaze fluttered from his own arm up to the concentrated face of the Shichibukai, who had bent down slightly to take a closer look at his and Zoro's arm.

"Are you aware of what you are doing and how you are doing it?" Mihawk asked and met Zoro’s eyes.

"I have no idea how this works or what's going on here," Zoro replied quickly with a slight shrug. His own arm felt quite cool by now and he noted how this feeling slowly spread across his chest.

"That's your Haki?" He muttered, though he knew the answer, and placed the other hand against his chest, but then he looked up again. "Does it hurt?"

The other's slight grin became a bit wider.

"Are you worried about me?" Zoro wanted to respond, but the elder continued: “It feels odd, like a tiny injection needle was pushed through the veins in my arm up to my heart and sucking off my blood straight from there.”

Surprised, Zoro leaned back a little. "That's strangely precise," he murmured in amazement.

"It is indeed a strangely precise feeling," the Shichibukai laughed softly before getting serious again. "How does it feel for you?"

Zoro tried to explain the feeling of the cool drops of water moving up his arm while the cold spread both to the other arm and to his abdominal area.

Gradually, he felt sick. As if the other had read his thoughts, Mihawk ordered him to let go.

But to Zoro's surprise, it wasn't that easy. As if frozen, he could barely move his fingers and his arm was unusually heavy. The moment he was finally able to let go of the other, he found it difficult to breathe, as if there was too much weight on his body.

"What...?" He could hardly speak, yet the elder said nothings but circled him only like a sculptor who examined his work.

"It is too much energy for your body," the Shichibukai calmly explained what he wanted to ask. "Like a flood wave held only by a dam. If we do nothing, it will soon tear you apart."

And why was the other so damn calm about this?!

"How?" Zoro hissed, feeling how he found it difficult to keep his shoulders straight. His muscles became more and more cramped and he could hardly move.

"It is very simple: Use your Haki."

It was like an explosion. Although he only wanted to harden his arms, he felt his whole body being covered by Haki.

"Very good," he heard the elder's voice, "does it feel better?"

He nodded only as he felt the force chasing out of him.

"All right, Roronoa, then come on." Confused, he stared at the other. "You must move regardless of the strength of your armor; do not let the energy paralyze your muscles, otherwise you will have problems to move at all. So let us run for now."

Although Zoro could almost feel the energy flowing out of him, it took a long time for the oppressive feeling of tightness to subsided. Dripping with sweat he paused, still feeling this unfamiliar force bubbling in him, but now it was not too much, now it was almost pleasant, inspiring.

The elder nodded contentedly and Zoro wondered for a moment how much life energy he had tapped from the other and whether it really affected him as little as it seemed.

"Well, you have to learn three things." The Shichibukai raised the first finger. "First, that you only absorb foreign Haki if you want to. You have certainly noticed it as well. With this ability, you could replenish your own energy in a fight at any time, which would give you unimaginable benefits, but if you cannot turn it off and absorb too much, it just slows and weighs you down, could eventually even kill you."

Zoro nodded.

"Second, you need to maximize the capacity of the energy you can hold and know its limits to prevent these downsides. You have just absorbed far too much of my Haki, and the energy you could not store became your enemy." Then the Shichibukai raised the third finger. "And of course, you have to learn to control both your own and the foreign Haki. We still have to figure out how to show you the flow of the Haki without you automatically sucking up my own. Otherwise I will find it difficult to show you how much Haki you simply..."

"I noticed," Zoro interrupted the other. "You mean that I just let the Haki flow right out of me, don't you?" He didn't like what it sounded like, but the other nodded.

"Yes, I just felt that, I could almost see it dripping out of my skin."

"Ah, that is a good thing. Then let us start right away."

"And how?"

Like out of nowhere, Mihawk pulled a sponge out of his back pocket. Zoro stared at the orange-sized object in disbelief and wondered if the older man had really carried it around with him all the time, but also what to do with it.

"I want you coat it," Mihawk replied to his unanswered question, "but without it changing its shape."

-Mihawk-

And with that Roronoa should spend the next few days.

For more than a week they had not left for the ruins to train together.

Of course, Roronoa still ran his rounds every morning and of course he spent much of his time under Mihawk's supervision, but as long as he could not concentrate his Busoshoku Haki in the least as well as his Kenbunshoku Haki, they could not start with the actual training - combat training.

Over the days, Mihawk’s other presumption had been confirmed as well: as long as Roronoa's own Haki was not too exhausted, his personal demon was not be seen. That had the advantage, that they did not have to deal with that subject too much at the moment, which was a good thing, because Mihawk was still uncertain about how best to tackle it.

Roronoa's inner monster was a defensive mechanism; when too much of Roronoa's energy had left him and a stranger's Haki came within reach, the monster awoke to replenish its own resource, but at the same time it used up all the available energy for a quick victory. This was dangerous, as this high use of power could end fatally for Zoro, still Mihawk thought of this demon as useful in several ways.

However, there was this small problem that Roronoa obviously could not distinguish friend from foe in this state, so it would be quite good if he would learn to control it. But how Mihawk did not know yet and of course his assumptions were far from confirmed, but Mihawk was actually still quite relaxed.

Before they would come to this topic, Roronoa had to master the other task and right now he was sitting cross-legged in front of the blazing fireplace, the sponge in both hands, which at that very second turned black and swelled to the size of a watermelon; like a hot potato, Roronoa dropped the sponge, rubbing his face in frustration.

"That was a little bit better," said Mihawk reassuring, folding the newspaper, but the other looked at him unimpressed without replying.

"Come here," he then ordered, holding his arm to the youngster.

They had quickly become accustomed to combining the practice of Haki control with that of Haki absorption. This way Roronoa could use all time he had to train until he had to transform into Loreen, and on the other hand they could prevent Roronoa from falling back on his mania due a lack of his own Haki.

"I don't like this," the other grumbled as he got up and staggered towards him. "What if this has negative side effects for you?"

Roronoa was really worried about him, quite cute.

"When will you finally understand that your concern for me is unfounded?"

"Tze," the other muttered only slightly blushing, "just shut up."

Like a starving vampire, Roronoa reached for his arm. Again, Mihawk noted that Roronoa could not absorb his Haki as long as he himself did not use it. This information was very relevant to him. Though he was training the other one so that Roronoa would one day defeat him, that did not mean he would make it easy for him.

No, this situation also gave Mihawk an unprecedented advantage. Now he knew Roronoa's most secret asset and had time to think about a counterstrategy. How shocking it must be for an opponent to realize that their own disappeared much faster than usual while the opponent seemed to be getting stronger and stronger?

Mihawk suspected that it probably would not have taken him long to figure out what was happening, but the question was whether he could have found the weak point in the short time of a fight. However, these were "what if..." thoughts pointless.

Satisfied he noted that Roronoa could at least estimate how much Haki he could take in by now. The first few days he had always taking way too much if Mihawk had not interrupted him, by now he knew his limits.

"You seem very displeased today," Mihawk assumed.

"Does that surprise you?" The younger one replied. "How am I going to become a better fighter if I can’t get past the basics? On Sasaki I fought at least, with or without a sword."

His little frog let go of him, this was still his only way to interrupt the stream of Haki, not able to control it in the least.

"Roronoa, I am well aware that you are making the most progress in direct action. Nevertheless," he warned, "good preparation ensures success."

The other stood up scornfully and fetched his sponge from the ground.

"This is not just a stupid saying, Roronoa," he said, scolding the younger man's thoughts, "it is the truth. On Sasaki, I focused on your biggest flaws to make sure you would survive. Now we have the time to really build you up and I would not waste it on just letting you fiddle with your swords every day."

"Fiddle?" The other repeated, staring down at Mihawk, but his threat did not impress him.

Mihawk sighed. "Say Roronoa, how did you train on your own? Repeating the same sequence of steps over and over until passing out, always trained only with your swords? Or rather strengthen your muscles with weights, strengthen your mind with meditation?"

The younger man looked at him extremely mad without saying anything at all and turned to his sponge; immediately it doubled in size.

This sponge became Roronoa's constant companion, while playing chess, while eating, while working through Eizen’s documents.

Even as Loreen, he always carried it around and tried to harden it from the inside out without it swelling up. In this form, it was much easier for him, but this may simply be due to the fact that Loreen's natural Haki flow was slower in general. In Loreen's form, he would use up his Haki more slowly, especially as long as he could not control its flow.

"Is he still with the sponge?" The ghost girl asked in amazement, before she stopped in the door frame. "What are you actually doing here?"

Mihawk did not even look up as he poured hot water over the herbs.

"This is my kitchen; I do not have to justify my actions."

From the corner of his eye, he could see her sticking out her tongue. Quietly muttering under her breath, she began to prepare dinner, meanwhile he put away the empty kettle and looked at the leaves dancing in the hot water.

But he could not help but watch her. She really tried, he had to admit that at least, yet she made mistakes that even caught his attention and he was truly not a master in the kitchen.

"Not like that," he finally stepped in, when she was about to throw the diced onions into a cold pan without oil at the same time as the other ingredients. "You have to heat the pan first and then fry the onions."

Surprised, she looked up to him as he put the sieve with his herbs in the sink and joined her at the stove.

"How do you know how to cook?" She asked, astonished, as if had not spent several days during the last months to save what she or Roronoa had almost destroyed.

"I am a bachelor, what do you expect?" He replied coolly, turning on the old stove. His cooking skills could not keep up with Kanans, but he had spent a lot of time alone and it was at least enough for his taste.

"When the oil starts forming stripes, you can put the onions in," he instructed her, setting the correct temperature. Then he went over to the sink and took care of his herbs, knowing full well that her large eyes were chasing him.

"Thank you," she finally said, and he nodded without looking at her.

"What did you make?" She asked him as he walked over to the teapot.

"Tea," he replied coolly.

"Yes, I see that. But what kind? Smells weird."

He was not certain if her interest should surprise or annoy him, nontheless he replied: "A special mixture of green tea, matcha, and a few other ingredients. It helps concentration and blood circulation."

"For Zoro?" She correctly speculated. Again, he nodded and placed pot and cups on a small tray. "You really like him, don't you?"

Now this direct question hit him unprepared.

"He is a promising talent," he replied vaguely.

She clicked her tongue and pushed the pan back and forth a little.

"Don't dodge. It's obvious. What kind of teacher is taking the trouble to make tea for his student? And you haven't even told him about your injury."

"And we will keep it that way," he said.

Defensively, she raised both hands before looking back into the pan.

"Like this?" She then asked.

Sighing he bent over her only to confirm her question. She willingly began to add the onions. Shaking his head, Mihawk grabbed the tray.

"Say, can I ask you something?" She already asked a question. He considered toying it with her, but decided it was not worth the effort.

"Continue," he generously allowed.

She had still turned her back towards him and unnecessarily pushed the onions back and forth in the pan.

"You once said that I have not yet used the potential of my devil power to its full capacity and I wonder what I can do to change that. When I return to Master Moria, I want to be of use for him."

Again, he shook his head. Her words were nothing but hollow, nothing he could take seriously.

"How am I supposed to know?" He replied coolly. "It is not like I know your skills."

"Why did you say it then?" Now she turned to him, her eyes shining with uncried tears. "Do you just want to make fun of me, or don't you take me seriously at all?"

This attitude was ridiculous.

"Concentrate on cooking, ghost girl. I cannot teach you anything, it would be a waste of time."

He went and left her behind.

In the fireplace room, he met Roronoa, who was still busy with his sponge. He poured tea for his little frog and himself and called him to the chessboard. He enjoyed playing with the younger one, not necessarily because it was a good game – no, it really was not – but he liked watching Roronoa think, and the most interesting conversations always arose over the chessboard. It was just like that this evening as well, although Roronoa complained several times about the tea.

Again, and again the other reached for the sponge and coated it, he made progress, but only very slowly.

They talked about many things, the riots in the North Blue, whether there would be a new Shichibukai and who that could be, some sword theories – in which Roronoa was extremely well-read – and stories of well-known swordfighters.

These conversations inspired him unspeakably, and he could see Roronoa flourishing, too, when he recounted intriguingly, re-enacting individual combat situations with his hands. It was only when they were discussing such things that the ice-cold demon of the East Blues really melted, revealing the little boy, who had fallen for the art of the sword, underneath.

Roronoa laughed out loud and took one of Mihawk's pawns off the field.

"Listen," he said then, and the good mood quickly left him, "don’t you think you were just a little bit harsh with Perona?"

Mihawk was not surprised that the other had heard the conversation. His Kenbunshoku Haki was really of quality by now.

"No," he said plain.

"No?" Roronoa repeated, looking up to him. "You can help her, right? So why did you reject her?"

Now their eyes met.

"Should I take it off from your training time?" He replied unimpressed, but Roronoa only lifted up the sponge as a response.

"She is annoying," Mihawk justified, "and I do not teach just any person. You are an exception, Roronoa, be aware of this and be grateful."

The younger shrugged his shoulders, while his sponge turned black and grew to the size of his head.

“I'm not saying you should teach her like me. But you could give her a hint."

"No."

Dissatisfied grumbling, the youngster dropped the sponge again.

"Why not? You don't need to like her."

“She does not deserve it.”

Now the other's eyes grew big.

"Roronoa, she is very different from you and me. She does not know what she wants and even more so, she is not ready to give anything for her goals.” He took Roronoa's queen off the field. He always lost her very quickly. "If she really wanted to find Moria, she would have left this island long ago against all odds, just think of yourself when it comes to your crew. She, however, makes herself useful in our home, because it is easier to pretend to be a housekeeper than to pursue her own ambitions."

The younger man continued to bend over the chessboard.

“If she really wanted to get better, she would train like you do, but no, she is standing in the kitchen and asking me how she can get better. She chooses the easy way and takes no responsibility for her actions and decisions. I cannot help anyone like that.”

It was only now that he noticed that Roronoa was still watching him.

"But, considering that you don’t give a crap about her, you did think a damn lot about her."

"Drink your tea."


	33. Chapter 29 - Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody, 
> 
> I hope you had a great start into the new week ;-)
> 
> We're back on schedule and I present you hereby the new chapter, thank you for your kind words and see you friday^^

Chapter 29 - Pride

-Zoro-

Finally!

He had spent almost two weeks with the damn sponge. Two weeks in which Mihawk had barely taught him anything, because Zoro had not been able yet to coat this stupid sponge while controlling his Haki flow. He looked at the little black sponge in his hands with great satisfaction before putting it in his pocket. At last he understood what it was all about, finally he could perceive the Haki flow. 

It was still early in the morning and he had just returned from his usual morning laps. By now, he no longer had to worry about the Humandrills; even if he was in the depths of the forest, he could not perceive any of them and although there were certainly more important things, it somehow satisfied him.

Stretching he walked through the door from the backyard to the kitchen, where he found Perona. To his surprise, she was cooking coffee and scrambled eggs.

"Is Mihawk already up?" He greeted her roughly and walked past her to the faucet and tapped a glass.

"Mhm,"she nodded approvingly. "But in a bad mood, not that this would be anything new."

He did not respond but emptied his glass in one go. On the way to the door, he gave her a telling look.

"No," she lamented with her arms crossed, "I don't want to."

During the last few days, Perona had repeatedly forced him to talk, because she desperately wanted the Shichibukai to at least accept her.

Zoro shrugged. "Your decision. But I can now coat the sponge. That means we will continue with actually training today. If you don’t ask him now, you won’t get another chance."

He walked out.

In the end, what she did, didn't matter to him, but unlike Mihawk, Zoro thought it was unfair to not even give her a chance. He understood the view of the Shichibukai and yet, if Zoro would have follwed that principle, he would have already lost one or another person dear to him.

"Hey," Zoro greeted as he walked into the fireplace room, where the elder was already sitting at the grand table, reading a letter or something. Mihawk lowered his hand with the document and regarded Zoro with raised eyebrows once from top to bottom.

Clearly, he disliked something. Zoro wasn't sure what the other didn't like, either that he just came in unwashed or that he wasn't Perona with coffee and breakfast.

"Good morning," Mihawk finally answered after a slightly too long second, dropping his gaze back on the paper in his hand.

Zoro couldn't stop a grin as he pulled the sponge out of his pocket, coated it, and then threw it at the other. To his disappointment, however, Mihawk caught the small cannon without even blinking.

"So, you made it," he said, as the sponge in his hand slowly lost its dark color, "you can now control your Haki flow."

Zoro just nodded and folded his arms. He waited for his teacher’s judgment, who now examined him again, this time a little more attentively. He could only guess what exactly the other was weighing up, but not for a second, he turned his gaze away when these yellow eyes looked at him.

Slowly, the elder stroked his beard, as if he were thinking hard, a picture that Zoro did not see so often. Yes, Mihawk pondered often, more often than he had ever seen a human think, but almost never did he look as if he had to rack his brain over something, as if his thought processes were too difficult even for him.

"All right," the Shichibukai finally said, but more to himself than to Zoro, and nodded. "Go, take a shower. Then we will start."

"With what?"

He had noticed how the other's gaze had changed; had noticed how the other's jaw had become a little tense; had noticed how he had cramped his shoulders for a fraction of a second. Zoro knew the other was stressed. For a second, he had believed that Mihawk would finally teach him the art of swords, but no, he knew what was on the agenda today.

"You want me to learn to control it."

The other only nodded, the shadow of a smile on his narrow lips. Zoro, however, didn't find it amusing. The only good thing about the last two weeks had been that he hadn't met his monster once. 

"Why?" He asked, even though he knew the answer. "I now know how to prevent it. So we should..."

“Roronoa.” The elder got up and Zoro gritted his teeth. "Take a shower."

This time he followed the demand, knew when it was wiser to postpone the discussion until later.

It was weird, he didn't need praise, he didn't need a pat on the back. He knew that this exercise had only been a means to an end, but nevertheless he was not entirely satisfied.

He had already talked with Mihawk a thousand times about mastering the basics before they would begin the right sword fight, and of course, as he was now, he posed a danger, not only to his enemies, but also to his friends. Apparently his demon wasn't a danger to Hawk Eyes, maybe Luffy would be able to stop him, Robin and the cook could resist him, but what about Chopper, Usopp, Nami?

Of course, he couldn't just ignore it.

He thought of Thriller Bark, he thought of his fight against Homura, he thought of the G-6. Each time, none of his friends had been harmed in the long run, but in less than two years they wanted to travel the New World, to visit dangerous realms. As long as Zoro couldn't control his deepest monster, he as well was a danger to them. He also knew what Mihawk had already explained to him; even this monster could one day become an advantage for him.

But he was still a long way from that.

As he passed the mirror, he regarded his reflection. Much had not changed; except for the slightly longer hair - which Perona regularly trimmed for him - and the small cross chain showed nothing of the last months. For a second, he wondered if he had really changed as much as he sometimes thought. Shaking his head, he left the bathroom and dressed. He should leave such doubts to someone who cared.

Next to the entrance, as always, Mihawk awaited him and, to his astonishment, Perona as well. She looked different than usual, although he could not say exactly why.

"Are you ready?" Mihawk asked him, without even expecting an answer.

"Are you coming along?" Zoro asked the ghost girl. She hadn't accompanied them for a long time and Zoro had been glad about that. "It could be dangerous."

"I don't care," she replied.

"Suit yourself," Mihawk said cold, "but rest assured that I will not take care of your well-being."

She was wearing trousers! That was it.

Zoro followed the Shichibukai, who simply ignored the outstretched tongue of the ghost girl and walked out. As always, their short march let them to the ruins and, as always, the Humandrills left them absolutely undisturbed, no wonder, the lord of the island was present.

For a moment, none of them said anything. Perona looked around insecurely and swung her arms back and forth as if she wanted to take off.

Zoro, on the other hand, had a hard time to move at all. He didn't want to lose control again, to wake up without being able to feel his body, without knowing what had happened in the last few hours. He didn't want to put Perona or even Mihawk in danger just because he had lost control, he didn't want to open his eyes with the uncertainty that they could all be dead. He didn't want to...

"You are scared." Mihawk stood in front of him with his arms crossed. Zoro did not respond. "I can imagine that this mania is probably not a pleasant feeling."

"Tze", it escaped Zoro. Nice how the other put it. _Not a pleasant feeling,_ exactly.

"Do you have a plan at all how I can control it?" He replied roughly.

Now Mihawk stuck up his nose. "What? Do you really doubt my abilities?"

Zoro had a fitting comment on his lips, but Perona was faster, groaning loudly.

"And that's what you call training?" She complained, her hands crossed behind her head. "All you do is stare at each other and talk, that can..."

"Silence or I will behead you." The Shichibukai didn't even look at her. "Roronoa, we will continue with the bamboo lesson today."

His tone did not change for a second, remained matter-of-factly and unimpressed.

"Now that you are finally able to control your Haki flow, it should be easy for you to coat the bamboo and strengthen your armor without it getting thicker."

Zoro nodded. At least that sounded doable. Then he followed the other to the small pile of bamboo sticks that were still there from their last exercise.

"Now, Roronoa, show me your hardening."

He took one of the sticks and obeyed. This time he managed to completely coat the stick, without breaking it.

"Very good," the other praised unimpressed.

"And what now?" Zoro muttered, looking at the elder. "How can this help me not to go berserk?"

Mihawk almost laughed.

"Not at all," he said, shaking his head. "Please be aware that you have just mastered the basics of hardening, regardless of your madness. With a little practice, you will soon be able to harden your swords without running the risk of bursting them."

Surprised, Zoro looked at the black stick in his hand.

Mihawk was right. How could he have missed this? He was just applying the Busoshoku Haki. Never again would he have to worry about one of his swords suffering, now he could protect them.

"So as long as you are the one with the bigger reserves, you can use your Haki without having to worry. We have already found out that the mere absorption of foreign Haki does not affect your control as long as your energy storage is not too exhausted."

"And?"

Now he looked at the other again. Yes, they had already talked about this several times in the last few days.

The elder smiled slightly and shook his head.

“And that means we are going to find out today where your limit is. When does your madness overwhelm you? When do you lose control? The more we know, the less threatening your condition is."

He didn't like it, not at all. But he couldn't deny that the other was probably right. If he knew how long he could fight without going crazy, he could also contain the danger he posed to his friends.

However, he knew that the other's goal was for him to be able to control his monster completely. How this was supposed to happen, well, even the Shichibukai left that unanswered.

"That means I have to use my Haki first?" Zoro asked. "And how?"

The other's grin grew a bit and he lifted up another bamboo tube. Within less than a blink, the stick turned completely black.

"Attack me."

Zoro could hardly believe it.

"I will block every one of your attacks. Pay attention that your staff does not break." The other raised an index finger. "Do only absorb my Haki if I tell you to? If you start too early, we will probably never reach the critical area."

Why did this order sound so strange?

Critically, Zoro tilted his head, but then he understood.

"You can't control it," he muttered, almost astonished.

Of course, Mihawk himself had admitted having never heard of the ability to absorb Haki. He might be superior to Zoro in everything, but the only thing he could do to prevent Zoro from absorbing his Haki was not to apply any himself. In fact, Zoro had something ahead of the Shichibukai that the other probably could never learn himself.

"Have you noticed it just now?" The other asked him with a raised eyebrow. "But do not dare to believe that this makes us even."

Mihawk was still grinning.

"You may have a skill that gives you an advantage in combat, but you should not underestimate me. My Haki reserves are far larger than what you can currently absorb or endure. You also forget that I as well have a big advantage."

Surprised, Zoro did the same as the other and went into combat position.

"Roronoa, I am the one who trains you. I know all your skills, all your weaknesses. Nobody knows your fighting style or technique as well as I do, and I explored your gift of absorbing Haki before you even realized it." The other's grin grew a little bit. "You are truly unique in terms of your talent and ambition, my dear Roronoa. But you are not even close to my level.”

There he was again, not the Shichibukai Hawk Eyes, not the honorable son of the house of Dracule, not the cool strategist Mihawk, no, the man who faced him was the best swordsman in the world Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk.

Zoro couldn't hide a grin either. That's where he wanted to go, and if this was the only way to throw this almighty bastard off his throne, then so it should be.

"You're pretty arrogant," he scoffed, grabbing his bamboo tighter. It may not be a real fight, not a sword in his hand, but it was not a sponge, at least not a theoretical lesson.

"Well, at least concerning that we are almost on a par."

Zoro attacked.

For hours, this exercise should occupy them. Every now and then the bamboo pipe in Zoro's hands broke, either because he let too much Haki flow into the dead plant or because his armor broke under the resistance of the Shichibukai, who used each single time to remind Zoro that Mihawk’s armor was countless times weaker than what he would normally use in a true battle.

Yes, his teacher seemed to enjoy mocking and annoying him. But Zoro didn’t mind. He was much more likely to deal with this than with lofty discussions and thoughts. How he had missed it. He had dealt and argued with the cook almost on daily basis, had fought with him and had vented his frustrations on him, as the blond had done on him.

With the Shichibukai it was different, he preferred the cold thought process, the rational analysis of motives and having not much of a choice Zoro had engaged in it. It was necessary that he trained not only his body, but also his mind, which he had understood by now and if he was quite honest, he did not find it so awful.

But of course, it was nothing compared to this here. Even with stupid bamboo, even with the stupid mocking of the Shichibukai, this was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to fight, only here he was really in his element and how he had missed it. He had almost forgotten how good it felt.

But the fight was far from good. It was exhausting and nerve-wracking, not because it was so thrilling, but because Zoro knew what the goal of this exercise was. Each hit only served to consume his Haki, to exhaust his reserves, only to find out when he would lose control.

He knew he would reach that point sooner or later, only in this way he could overcome his weakness. But over time, his bamboo tubes broke down at ever shorter intervals, not because he let too much Haki flow into the plant fibers, but because his armor was weakening.

"Concentrate, Roronoa," the elder scolded him, "do not think I would not notice when you hold back. Your Haki is not so weak that it would not hold such a weak armor."

The grin of the morning was long gone. The Shichibukai had followed his word and blocked every single blow from Zoro so far seemingly without any problems. Not once had he changed his foot position and hardly a drop of sweat ran down his forehead, while Zoro felt like he had jumped into a hot spring with his clothes on.

The shadows that grew longer in the fog were proof enough that the day was coming to an end, meanwhile a light drizzle had set in, but Mihawk did not stop the exercise.

"It should not take that long, Roronoa," he gnarled as daylight eased around them and dawn set in, while Zoro threw away another broken stick and grabbed another one. "Your hardening is too weak; it takes too long to consume your Haki. Stop holding back."

"I'm not holding back," he growled with heavy breaths. It was possible that his reserves of Haki had not reached their limit yet, but hours of attacking a wall of steel-hard muscles wasn't necessarily fun either. How could the other accuse him of not giving everything?

He was here to surpass the other, and to do so he had to defeat his greatest weakness, the uncontrollable monster within him, so why did the other accuse him of not doing everything in his power?

"Then show it to me!" The elder ordered.

At some point, Perona withdrew back to the castle, but Zoro didn't waste any thought on why she had come along in the first place.

He could see the Shichibukai becoming more dissatisfied with every second. The corners of his mouth sank deeper and deeper and the usual wrinkles on his forehead grew. No matter what attack Zoro carried out, the other was unimpressed and more and more pipes broke, while the Shichibukai had not yet allowed a single scratch on his bamboo.

“Roronoa!” Out of nowhere, the other suddenly took a step forward and attacked him.

At the last moment Zoro was able to deflect the blow, but his bamboo broke and Hawk Eyes’ coated stick hit him against the face the full nine yards. Gasping for air, he stumbled back and fell.

"Pathetic." Mihawk towered over him. "Tze, neither your bamboo should have broken, nor was this attack strong enough to really trouble you. Still, you crawl on the floor."

Zoro rubbed his jaw and spit blood on the bare earth.

"If you do not take this seriously, Roronoa, we can stop now. This is a waste of time."

_How dare you?!_

For the first time in weeks, their training finally came close to a fight, not just stubborn, simplistic, stupid concentration on bamboo sticks or sponges, not just bland theory stuff and now this snob accused him of not making an effort? That he wasn't serious? He actually accused Zoro of wasting his time! Put him on a par with Perona and paperwork.

"Wanna say that again!" He grumbled, rising painfully. "You have no idea what I'm trying to do here, you bastard."

The Shichibukai was unimpressed.

"Oh, really? To me it looks like you are trying to delay the inevitable. You use as little Haki as possible, keep pinching off from me every now and then, hoping that I will not notice, and your attacks get weaker with every blow. You disappoint me."

"Shut up, you..."

"For a second I even thought that you would now pose a danger to Jiroushin, but if you are not even ready to deal with yourself, how will you ever be prepared to fight me?"

That hurt!

"As long as you are not ready to overcome yourself and face what scares you, we do not need to continue our training. You have already successfully suppressed it for 20 years, so carry on with this, if it makes you feel..."

"Stop it!"

He had grabbed the other's bamboo and ripped it out of his hand, knowing that the other had allowed it. He was standing in front of Hawk Eyes, breathing heavily. He wanted to say something, wanted to justify himself, to put the other in his place, but no word came out of his mouth. Several times he swallowed and tried to calm his breath.

Unimpressed, the elder withstood his gaze. He didn't seem angry at all, despite his harsh words, despite his attack.

"If I'm such a disappointment," Zoro finally said, "why are you so calm?"

Mihawk did not respond.

"You care about training with me, said yourself that I am important to you. If I really disappoint you, if you would really doubt that I can become the swordsman who will defeat you, why the hell doesn't it make you angry?"

And then Zoro got it.

"You want to provoke me," he muttered in wonder. "You want me to get angry and attack you without thinking."

It made click.

"You think I'm going to let my hair down like that."

A barely visible smile crept over the elder's lips.

“But it seems like you saw through my subtle manipulation. Bravo."

Mihawk had played with him, had used this moment to test Zoro's character, to check if he could keep his emotions in check, to check if he had really changed. The heated feeling in his chest faded slightly and he took a deep breath.

"However, my words were not made up, Roronoa. You really let yourself be inhibited by your fear. Whether consciously or unconsciously, you are trying to prevent your Haki reserves from sinking into a fragile area so you would not run the risk of losing control."

It sounded as cool as ever; Zoro had no idea whether Mihawk was angry or even disappointed.

"In a real fight, that would not be a bad idea with your current skills. But here and now we want to do just that so that you can deal with it in a safe environment. As long as you are not ready to take the next step, I cannot help you."

This almost hurt even more than what the other had said before to provoke him.

"And what now?" Zoro asked, staring at the ground.

"Now we stop for today."

Zoro's gaze chased upwards.

"But...!"

"Did you listen to me for even a second?" Now the other sounded irritated. A little harder than before, Mihawk continued: "I want you to use tonight to think about this training and, if it is necessary, tomorrow as well. As long as you may need to find out what you want to achieve and how far you are ready to go."

These words sounded very threatening.

"I can train you, Roronoa, eliminate your weaknesses and perfect your strengths, train your skills and optimize your gifts. I can teach you lacking knowledge and accompany you on your way to become a true master of the sword. But there is one thing I cannot do.” The elder still looked at him cold. "I cannot go the way for you. You have to decide, you have to face your fears. I know that you are disciplined and persistent. You are afraid of a few things, so it is all the harder for you if they stand in your way."

Zoro bit his lower lip and lowered his gaze again.

"Think about it calmly and then tell me your decision. If you are ready to face your fears, I will continue to train you. What you do until then is your decision."

He swallowed heavily. The other didn't say it, but it was very clear that they were at a cutting point here and Zoro didn't even know how they had gotten there. It would depend on Zoro's decision whether the other would continue to train him, and even if he could now simply say that he would not let himself be subdued by his fears, that he had no idea what the other was saying, he also knew that it was true.

He hadn't given everything. He had just sabotaged himself to not get into a situation that he wanted to avoid.

Tze, that didn't fit him at all. He was ashamed.

"And something else." Zoro looked up, the other seemed even more dissatisfied than ever.

"I noticed that you only do your individual training sessions in this form." Zoro gritted his teeth. "Do you even care about the growing gap between your two bodies?"

The yellow eyes lay coolly on him and were probably waiting for an answer.

"No, I..."

"If you decide to continue this path, you will only train as Loreen from now on, unless you train with me and I tell you something else."

He looked away.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

Of course, he had. Finally, he had his body under control again, could now keep his real shape for more than 24 hours, could finally start the actual training and now Hawk Eyes wanted to ban just that? Especially after the other had just accused him of not taking the training seriously and throwing their training at risk.

"You still do not understand it, do you?" Disappointed, the elder shook his head. It seemed as if he was simply done with the previous theme about using Haki and addressed now another topic. "None of your opponents will wait patiently, until you can turn back into this shape here, to defeat you. Real life is not a duel. It is not about honor and pride, not about skills and elegance. It is all about survival."

As if Zoro didn't know that.

"Roronoa, what is your biggest weakness?"

That question surprised him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Apart from all the things we just covered?” He replied sarcastically, but knew the other was expecting a serious answer. “Well, I'm still pretty slow compared to... "

"False!" The elder interrupted him hard and took a step towards him. "Maybe you do not notice your development because you do not fight here every day like usually, but what I just said I actually believe; I think you could soon surpass Jiroushin." 

It was like a lightning bolt hit him.

"So no, your technique is not perfect yet, but your biggest weakness is clearly your pride."

Now Zoro stared on the floor and clenched his jaw.

"Otherwise you would have long since admitted that you have to get much better as Loreen. If you carry on like this, your other form will become your Achilles heel." The other folded his arms. "You are so afraid of your inner demon that you simply ignore your true weakness. Your monster won't kill you, I can make sure of that, but only you can defeat your pride."

With that, Mihawk turned around and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Zoro behind, furiously clenching his fists.

"Bastard!" He growled into the silence, knowing full well that the other was right.


	34. Chapter 30 - Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> back in rhythm! So here we go with a new chapter! Have fun and see you monday ;-)

Chapter 30 - Perspective

-Zoro-

"So, what do you think?" He asked casually - yet almost sheepishly - the Shichibukai, who ate dinner and read the newspaper at the same time. Even when Zoro had come in, Mihawk had only looked up briefly and then concentrated on his favorite reading.

"I think it is a good time, albeit a little bit short-term," the elder replied calmly. Zoro had no idea whether the past training influenced his mood or not. "Maybe it is good for you to leave this island for a few days."

Somehow, he disliked how relaxed the other reacted. A stark contrast to his behavior the last time they had talked about something like this. Displeased, Zoro lifted up the letter and scanned over it again.

"So here it says that you can come along if you want to."

Now the elder finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow asking.

"It's just a _half-day final gathering_ or something with a following statement. Not even five days, according to Eizen, and he thought it might actually be interesting for you," Zoro continued.

The letter had arrived during their training, but Zoro disagreed with Mihawk, Eizen’s invitation – or rather demand to show up – couldn’t have come to a worse time.

"I am sorry, Roronoa," the elder replied, raising his newspaper again, "but even if I wanted to, I could not accompany you."

"What? Why?"

Why shouldn't the other be able to? It wasn’t like Hawk Eyes had anything like hobbies or commitments anyway; beside Zoro's training and the protection of the five islands, his duties as Shichibukai were practically non-existent with a few exceptions.

“This morning I have also received a short-term appointment notice, which I should not refuse. It would be impossible for me to return in time for it.”

"Yeah sure," Zoro snorted, his arms crossed. "Listen, if you don't want to, okay, but then at least don't lie to me. What kind of appointments would you even have?"

"It is a private matter," the other dodged his question, only confirming Zoro's suspicion that Mihawk really only needed a bad excuse to get rid of him for a few days. "Would you even want me to accompany you?"

Now the other suddenly looked at him. Zoro had not been prepared for this question. Defensively, he shrugged his shoulders and raised both arms.

"No idea. After the last time I thought you don't like it when I'm alone with Eizen. After all you’re some kind of freakish control freak."

"You told me to work on it and now you are complaining?"

Mihawk turned a page, reading again. For a moment Zoro just stood there, but for the elder the conversation was obviously settled.

Something had changed, he just didn't know exactly what. This wasn't the first time the mood between them was weird and usually Zoro didn’t care. The other one had his phases sometimes, he didn’t care.

But the way Mihawk had given him the choice and had ended their training… it made no sense to him. Zoro had already decided, had decided over and over again to stay with the other in order to get better, stronger. So why did the other doubt that he was serious?

"You really do not understand, do you?" Suddenly, these yellow eyes looked directly at him. "You still think I am testing you, right?"

"Punishing," he agreed half-jokingly, "or something like that."

Now the other smiled. "Sometimes it surprises me how you are able to stay so simple-minded."

"What?! If you just want to insult me further, I can just..."

"Roronoa." Laughing, the elder folded his newspaper. "I was serious about what I said. You are a person who is willing to give up and accept many things in order to achieve what is important to you. Protecting your friends, realizing your dream. I almost envy you for this indomitable will."

Defending, Zoro raised both arms. He was most suspicious of this side of the Shichibukai; if the other wanted to praise him or butter him up, they always went into dangerous territory.

"And yet you are not perfect either, fortunately; for all your godforsaken talent and devilish ambition, it would otherwise be really unfair. You are a person who is afraid of only few, very few things, so you rarely have to deal with this feeling."

What was the other talking? Sure, he wasn't a scaredy cat like Ussop and he didn't let fear paralyze him, like Nami or Chopper, but of course he knew what fear was.

"I am not talking about this tension when there is danger; this uncertainty about whether one chooses the right thing." It was as if the other knew exactly what he was thinking. "Tell me, Roronoa, when were you so scared that you could not think clearly, that you lacked the air to breathe? When were you really terrified?"

_Sabaody Archipelago_

"You are no one who is afraid of your own death, you have proven this several times. There are only two things that really scare you." Now the other stood up. "Of course, the loss of people you care about. You have proven many times that you are willing to make the impossible possible in order to prevent their death. We have often discussed that your protective instinct regularly trumps your instinct for self-preservation. Still, the concern for other people is a very common bargaining chip, from which even I cannot completely free myself."

How arrogant the other sounded.

"Your other fear much more interesting. You are afraid to fail, afraid to lose control. You are a perfectionist and at our first meeting you lived by the mindset of rather dying by trying than to live with the shame of failure."

Zoro remained silent.

"I think you are afraid that you cannot control this mania, and instead of failing, you would rather not try it at all, not if you have a way you can avoid it." Now the other grinned slightly. "You are a person who is not even afraid of death and instead of succumbing to the fear of losing your friends, you always throw yourself in the line of fire because you know you can protect them. For this reason, you are very rarely afraid, and I am talking about true fear. But I wonder what happens when you are helpless? If you cannot do anything to escape that fear, what will you do? If you cannot stand up to this fear, you are not ready to become a true master of the sword."

Zoro didn't grin. Was Mihawk right? Was there some fear Zoro didn’t deal with, he didn't even realize he had, didn't even want to notice? Had he actually held back up until now because he was scared?

"You should use the next few days and think about it in peace, Roronoa. Fear is not a bad thing; it is even very important." Zoro knew that. "After that, you will understand what I mean and why you could not surpass yourself at today’s training today."

For a moment, he pondered. "That is, this choice you gave me was just hypothetical?"

Mihawk laughed softly and walked past Zoro.

"Oh no, I was serious. If you do not decide to fight your monster, we do not need to move on." When they were next to each other, the elder stopped. "I have no doubt that you will choose the right path, but you have to do it yourself. Good night, Roronoa."  
  


The next morning came faster than Zoro liked. He had barely slept and had spent too many hours thinking about Mihawk’s cryptic words.

He still didn't really know what the other actually expected from him. Of course Zoro wanted to face his inner demon, he really wanted to be the best swordsman in the world and in a fight against Hawk Eyes he couldn’t afford to pay attention that his Haki did not reach a critical point.

He had been training for this all his life. He didn't want to lose, he couldn't lose. How else could he ever face Kuina again? Thus, he did not want to give up under any circumstances. He wanted to keep going and he didn't feel like he had trained only half-heartedly.

Zoro hadn't really slept during the last night.

Now he had left Kuraigana, Mihawk, and Perona behind and found himself in a large chamber on a ship of the World Government. In two hours, he would meet with Eizen and Rihaku to prepare for the meeting the next day. Until then he wanted to sleep a bit, but he lay awake on the sofa. The zipper of his dress tweaked awkwardly, but much more bothered him that he could not find peace.

Why didn't he see what the Shichibukai meant?

He understood what Mihawk was saying, but he just didn't feel like he had been paralyzed with fear. Of course, when he thought back to that day when he had been on Mary Joa and had helplessly watched how his crew had been defeated by Kuma, yes, back then, that had been real fear. But if he thought of the previous day, no, the feeling had not been comparable, not in the least.

Yes, he wasn't looking forward to lose control again, but he wasn't looking forward to meet Eizen and yet he was here now.

Suddenly it knocked on the door and Ms. Rihaku stuck in her head, even that she did with an angelic elegance.

"Oh, sorry, I did not want to bother." Considering how gracefully she moved among all these well-born suits, she now seemed almost shy, like a country cousin. Her rare, almost insecure smile and tiny dimples made her look much younger than the cool expression she usually showed. "I just wanted to give you the schedule for the meeting. It has just arrived.”

The woman with the almond-shaped eyes bowed deeply and offered a bundle of papers to him. Zoro got up in a hurry and came over to her. He quickly thanked her and tried to find words that would probably fit a Lady Loreen. No, he really didn't want to be here while he was talking to this politician and discussing tomorrow's daily schedule before she finally said goodbye.

But before she closed the door, she bit her lower lip with blushed cheeks and looked at Zoro again so unusually insecure, which did not at all correspond to her otherwise so sublime look.

"May I ask you one more question, Lady Loreen?" As always, she was extremely polite. "Are you doing well?"

"Well... of course." Zoro looked at her confused, but she smiled weakly, unlike Eizen, she seemed absolutely honest.

"I apologize for my curiosity, but I am a little worried. Mr. Eizen has, of course, informed me about your fragile health and now I am surprised that you are travelling completely unaccompanied, especially because you seem very exhausted. I am sorry if I am too blunt.”

It was true that he did not want Perona to accompany him - for several reasons - and Mihawk had not objected. But he hadn't thought for a moment about how to justify it, or that anyone would notice it at all.

"Um... erm..."

Again, the other woman bowed deeply.

"I am sorry that I became too personal." It was still surprising, she just seemed so insecure, so shy, but as soon as Eizen or anyone else showed up, she was professionalism and self-assurance in person.

"No, no," he replied quickly, raising a hand, "it's not something you need to worry about. I assure you that you don't have to worry about my health at all."

Ms. Rihaku looked at him in amazement before nodding.

"I understand, Lady Loreen. It is truly wise not to show weakness, especially in this men's world." Then she pressed Zoro's hand for a moment. "If you need something, you can come to me. I can remain as silent as the grave."

With that she went her way, leaving Zoro behind, shaking his head and dropping back on the couch. Maybe Eizen had been right about his gift after all, or was this just a trap to gain Zoro's trust?

-Mihawk-

Roronoa had left the island.

Almost automatically, Mihawk’s mood dropped.

They had not seen each other this morning. The main reason for this was that Roronoa had left at an almost inhumane early hour, it was still dark outside. The real reason, however, was that Mihawk had simply decided not to say goodbye.

It was not that they were arguing again, maybe a little tension, but that was part of the training. Nevertheless, he was glad that he did not need to see the younger one for a few days.

Of course, he found it problematic that his little frog was already on his way to meet with Eizen, on the other hand he was relieved that he could actually settle his private affairs privately. He was glad that Roronoa was no longer in the line of fire; still, now lying in his bed and feeling Roronoa moving farther and farther away, he felt how his mood reached a new low.

During the last evening, Roronoa had come to his room to tell him when he would have to leave and that - contrary to Mihawk's wish - he would not take the ghost girl along, as she was _annoying as hell._ A statement he could only agree with.

But that also meant that she was still here, probably cooking something in the kitchen and therefore he had even less desire to get up. The ghost girl had asked him for help several times – and he knew that Roronoa was actually encouraging her – but he really had better things to do than to think for her, laying around here, for example. But that meant he had to deal with his own thoughts and that was almost even more annoying.

He rose groaning. Outside, it was still night, even after he had left the shower and he had really taken a lot of time. In the mirror, his gaze fell on the five fine lines on his right shoulder. The wound had already healed, of course it was not a problem at all, would not leave a scar. However, the skin was still uneven, even somewhat sensitive.

Shaking his head, he dressed and left his room. He should be right and meet the ghost girl in the kitchen. Surprised, she looked up from the newspaper as he came in.

"What are you doing here?" She greeted him, apparently in shock. "You usually don't get up before sunrise."

Condescendingly, he looked down to her. Who was she wanting to tell him when to come into his kitchen?

"Good morning," he replied coolly, ignoring her to take care of his breakfast.

"Um..." She jumped up and raced past him to the sink. "The coffee is not finished yet. I had no idea you were getting up so early."

He just waved it off and fetched a bowl to make his scrambled eggs as she began to make coffee. In silence, they worked side by side, even if he could feel her eyes on him.

"You're really good," she muttered, sitting on the counter to watch him better.

"It is just scrambled eggs," he said, unimpressed. However, it was true that he had perfected this simple dish because he preferred it as breakfast. When he took the time to have breakfast and if he prepared it himself, he would always choose scrambled eggs, as simple as that.

His freeloader observed him calmly again, until he finally left the kitchen with food and coffee. She followed him conspicuously.

"Why do you never eat in the kitchen?" She asked curiously. "Eating alone in the fireplace room is totally stupid"

"Staff eats in the kitchen," he explained drily, "and the chairs there are uncomfortable."

She was annoying, why had Roronoa left her with Mihawk? After all she was Roronoa’s responsibility and not Mihawk’s, he was just not good with pets.

"I like to eat in the kitchen," she muttered, sulking.

"As I said."

Snorting, she followed him into the fireplace room, like an annoying limpet. As he sat down, she offered him the newspaper.

"For you, Dra…cule?”

For a moment he looked at her before taking it. She smiled shily and seemed nervous, but he decided to focus on his favorite reading. Graciously, he was able to enjoy his breakfast in absolute silence, even though he could feel her gaze all the time. He had the uneasy feeling that she would haunt him throughout the day, and he should be right. When he got up to clear away the remnants of his meal, she came after him.

"Are you my shadow?" He asked annoyed. "Or why are you bothering me?"

"I wanted to help you clean up," she muttered innocently.

He let her do it.

"Say, Dracule," she stammered as she took the plate, "weren't you pretty rude to Zoro yesterday?"

"Excuse me?"

She allowed herself to criticize his actions? She saw herself in the position to evaluate his training methods? Was she tired of life?

"So... so I mean,” she quickly rowed back, "Zoro seemed to me as if he didn't understand what you wanted from him. I don't think he knew he wasn't training at full power.”

Mihawk was not surprised that she knew everything. After all, her ridiculous ghosts floated around and watched everything all day long. He did not care as long as she left his privacy alone. But he was more than surprised that she had the audacity to discuss Roronoa's progress with him.

She seemed to notice his mood – not entirely surprising, after all, he stared at her directly – because she quickly continued: "You know, fear and negative thoughts are kind of my specialty, so I know exactly what you mean. But Zoro is barely scared of anything, I don't think fear ever dominated him, if at all, it's always spurred him on."

She seemed to have really thought about it a lot.

"I have no idea what you want to teach him, and I don't want to interfere." That was better for her. "But I'd like to understand why you're giving Zoro a choice instead of just explaining to him what's going on. I don't think he understood.”

He owed her no explanation. Dear God, he owed her nothing.

"Then, for once, use your own head," he challenged her. "Why do you think I am making Roronoa choose?"

He actually thought that he had told Roronoa quite clearly what he expected of the other.

For a moment, she looked at the tea towel in her hands.

"So that he understands it himself," she muttered thoughtfully. “You know he didn't even notice it, so you want him to think about it himself. Because if he doesn't even notice his own mistakes later, how can he improve if you don't stand in front of him and explain it to him?"

"That is true," he admitted, "Roronoa needs to learn to reflect more on his actions and thoughts in the few areas he has difficulties. He must learn to maintain his concentration and to perceive his own weaknesses, even in unpleasant situations. The task of a teacher is not only to teach a student knowledge, but also to promote independent thinking and enquiries."

She stared at him with big eyes, though her eyes always looked huge thanks to her make-up.

"What? You seem surprised. Did you doubt my actions had a deeper meaning?"

"Um," she said, looking away. “I just didn't expect you to tell me. That was nice, thank you," she added, slyly.

He paused for a moment. He had not even realized that it could actually matter to her.

Suddenly, a small clock beeped beside her.

"Oh no, I'm late!" She suddenly exclaimed and jumped up.

"What are you talking about? There is no one left to prepare breakfast for.”

"That's not what it's all about," she said as she turned off the clock and rushed through the kitchen.

Mildly interested, he watched her take one of the large baskets out of the pantry, filled with food. He sighed.

"I have told you before that you should not waste food on the Humandrills. This is not a welfare club. You throw money out the window, my money, mind you."

"With the heating costs that this castle is devouring, I don't think you're worried about money."

She rushed with the basket towards the back exit.

"Tze, whatever. It is wasted effort, ghost girl. You can still give them as much..."

“Psst!” She had lifted the basket against her hip to have one hand free and opened the door. Then she held her index finger in front of her lips, to silence him. She actually dared to silence him. "If you talk too loudly, they certainly won't come. After all, they are afraid of you."

Dumbfounded, he actually stayed silent and watched her rush down the steps, putting the basket in the backyard. On the far horizon, a strip of bright blue indicated the end of the night. As she closed the door, he shook his head.

"Why are you making such an effort? As soon as you roam the woods without Roronoa or me, they will not hesitate to kill you."

Now she looked at him unusually cold.

"So what?" She crossed her arms. "Why would this stop me from filling empty stomachs?"

This counter-question surprised him, but she did not stay with him anymore, but hustled over to the small kitchen window. Now she smiled happily again.

"Here they come!" She whispered excitedly.

Sighing, he followed her to the window and peeked outside as well.

A dozen Humandrills scurried carefully through the back garden. They seemed obviously nervous and observed the castle suspiciously. They had to feel Mihawk's presence and knew that he did not like it when they got too close to his home. Once in the backyard, they split up and took place on the left and right of the stairs; on the bottom heel the ghost girl had placed the basket with the food. It seemed as if they were expecting an attack at any moment.

When nothing happened after several seconds, Mihawk wanted to leave, but suddenly one of the monkeys whistled quietly and another shadow separated from the dark forest. Surprised, Mihawk watched as the thirteenth Humandrill approached carefully, in its hands a basket identical to the one that stood on the stairs. Similar to the ghost girl, the primate had placed the basket against its hip to have one hand free to carry a weapon.

Almost sublimely, the primate passed between the saluting contemporaries and reached the stairs. There it looked skeptically up to the door before carefully putting the basket on the lowest stairs. The next moment it grabbed the other basket and immediately ran away, followed by the other Humandrills.

"Aren’t they cute?" The young woman whispered by his side, rushing to the kitchen door.

"Incredibly cute," he commented sarcastically, but then a surprised sound crept over his lips. “Oh.”

In the light of the kitchen, he could now see that the basket that the ghost girl brought in was not empty at all. Almost half of it was filled with all sorts of mushrooms, nuts, roots, and fruits. Perona’s broad grin could compete with Jiroushin’s.

"You see!" Radiantly, she held the basket towards him. "They are not evil monsters. They're just misunderstood.”

"Whatever." He turned around and left the ghost girl in the kitchen.

The Humandrills had actually brought her food, they had actually copied some of her good-naturedness. Shaking his head, he went back to his own chambers, where she would certainly not follow him.

Maybe, just maybe, he had underestimated her.


	35. Chapter 31 - Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very good morning to you guys^^
> 
> Here for a good start into the new week! Things have been rough, but I remastered my schedule, so here I am, more in time than ever before, posting now and then heading off to studying, feeling like I got my shit together, so I wish for everybody out there to feel the same way (because we all damn well know that neither Zoro nor Mihawk do ;-P)
> 
> See you all friday and thank you for your kind words^^

Chapter 31 - Will

-Mihawk-

"Why are we doing this again?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I already explained it several times, ghost girl. A visitor will come by tomorrow, so this room has to look presentable."

She snorted and rubbed the dust off her face.

"Yes, I got that part, but why do I have to help you? This is so exhausting; can't you just have your meeting in the fireplace room or the library?"

"Do you want to do the rest on your own?" He replied.

Swiftly she shook her head and continued to free the heavy curtains from dust and spider webs. She was not entirely wrong. There was absolutely no reasonable reason speaking against holding his appointment in one of the other more frequently used rooms, not a single one, except that he wanted it that way.

"When you are done, bring another chair from the kitchen," he ordered as he freed the veiled paintings and sculptures from their dusty sheets.

"What? Why one from the kitchen?"

"Because I say so."

They had been cleaning for almost two hours and slowly the hall looked as magnificent as it probably had in its better times.

"It has to be someone pretty important if you're making such a fuss."

He did not answer but considered his work. Admittedly, the ghost girl had been a great help to him; she was really nimble when it came to cleaning. Satisfied, he walked up the three steps at the end of the hall and settled on the only piece of furniture present, a chair more like a throne than an armchair.

He had waited a long time for this day, just for that day he had settled in this castle.

Perona came back with swaying pink hair and a chair and stopped in the door frame. He could see her impressed expression before she quickly looked away and closed the door behind her again.

He liked the door of this room. It was a double-sided sliding door, the two sides were connected by a special mechanism and would always open and close at the same time, thus providing an impressive picture for a newcomer.

"Where do you want the chair?" She asked him shyly, and he noted her with a wave of his hand to place it right in front of him, right in front of the three steps.

"Isn't that a bit too dramatic?" She muttered, looking up at him. "Should I get you crown or something else? Maybe a tiara?"

Immediately, she trembled under his gaze.

"I am the lord of this island; I should present myself accordingly. But I do not expect you to understand that, ghost girl."

He got up and walked past her.

"No, I don't," she agreed. "Why are you doing this?"

Now he looked at her grinning.

"Because I want to." His grin grew over her perplexed facial expression. "And because I can." Then he went on: "I am my own master; I can do whatever I want. If I wanted, I could destroy this island here and no one could hold me accountable."

He could hear her clattering heels following him.

"Sounds priggish to me," she muttered softly, "besides, you're Shichibukai, aren't you? Doesn't that make you a serf of the World Government?"

Oh, he should not have been that nice to her during the last morning.

"Watch your pertly mouth if you want to keep it," he threatened.

"No, no, I just thought..." She fell silent for a second before continuing to speak: "Do you really think you're still free?"

He stopped and looked at her, but she kneaded her hands in her dusty apron.

"I mean, how can you be your own master if you belong to someone else? Aren't all your decisions tied to what..."

"What nonsense!"

Frightened, she stared up at him.

"Listen, I will tell you that only once." He could see her fear grow. "As long as you have your own will, you are always free."

Her eyes have become big.

"It may be that you are a slave - a serf - but each of us is born with our own will, and as long as you do not give that up, you belong to yourself only and to no one else."

Her fists trembled.

"Even though I am chained to the World Government, they will never be able to control me. What about you? Do you have your own will or are you blindly guided by stranger's will? Because only then have you given up yourself." With those words he left her behind.

His own will, so often he had altered it, suppressed, ignored.

But that had been because there had been actually only a few things in life that he had really ever wanted, and most of the time he had simply taken it without hesitation.

He knew it was not as easy as he had just said Perona. But he admitted with a smile, it might have been what Roronoa might have said, right?

He was tense. Like a novice before the first duel.

"Hey, Dracule."

Sighing, he rolled his eyes. She was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"What? Can’t you see that I am busy right now?" He grumbled, dropping the newspaper.

The ghost girl on the other side of the paper dodged his gaze with a fire-red head.

"Can I ask you something?"

He should never have listened to Roronoa. Why had he not thrown her out months ago? She was annoying and for the last few days she was getting worse and worse. When he did not respond, she began to knead her folded hands and eventually settled on the sofa on which his little frog used to sleep. Then she looked at him with an innocent curiosity.

"How do I find out what I want?"

The newspaper almost slipped out of his hand about such a pathetic question.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, disinterestedly. "You will at least know what you want?"

Of course, he remembered their conversation from the early morning, but he had not expected she would raise the issue again. She still did not look at him, but only kneaded her hands in her lap. But Mihawk did not enjoy that conversation either way, so he picked up the newspaper and kept reading.

"I have thought carefully about your words, about everything you have told me so far, and you are right. If I really wanted to go back to Master Moria, I would probably have left a long time ago to look for him. But the thing is..." She hesitated. "Actually, I don't know what I want."

He took a deep breath; he could really do without this conversation, especially right now.

"That is a ridiculous excuse," he murmured, folding the newspaper.

"It’s not!" She jumped up.

"My whole life..." She swallowed heavily and Mihawk feared that she would start crying. "My whole life I couldn't decide for myself. Until Master Moria took me in, I didn't have the luxury of thinking about what I liked; I did everything I could to survive somehow."

He did not respond.

"Even with Master Moria, I did as I was told. I was so glad to have found a home that I would have done everything I could to not be alone again. Because everyone is afraid of that, right? To be excluded, to be rejected, to be left alone."

Inexpressive, he looked down at her as silent tears ran down her face.

"But now I'm here and even though you're a heartless monster and Zoro an mean ruffian, I’m still happy to be here. You treat me unkind and nitpick about my cooking, but nevertheless you let me cook what I want, order everything I write on the shopping list, even if it's just my own sweet stuff and otherwise I can do what I want as long as I don't bother you. Zoro isn't much better, he's always grumbling like a sleepy bear, but I can always ask him for help and he's actually much nicer than he acts. He also lets me try new hairstyles as Loreen and this Kanan always sends great dresses. "

She tried in vain to wipe away her tears.

"Since I've been here, I've had to work because otherwise you'll throw me out, but it's still very funny to watch you and Zoro play chess and mock each other. Also, it makes so much fun to dress Zoro up and that you always..."

"What is your point, ghost girl?"

Her story did not interest him.

She clenched her fists and looked at him directly. The first time she answered his gaze.

"You are the first person to ask me what I want. I never thought about it before. I thought that Master Moria is the only person I can return to, but now..." She shook her head. “Now I don't know. Because I like to be here, despite your and Zoro's bad mood. Therefore..."

Her lip trembled.

"Therefore, if I really can do what I want, if I can really have my own will and act on it, then... then..." Suddenly, she bowed deeply. "May I please stay here with you and Zoro?"

He still said nothing.

"Please! Can I stay?!" She screamed. "I want to stay here on Kuraigana."

Shaking his head, he got up and threw the newspaper at a small side table. She did not move as he walked past her and walked to the door. There he stopped.

"Dracule?!" She yelled gasping, obvious despair in her voice. She was still standing there deeply bowing.

"I do not know what you want from me," he replied coolly, "you already do know what you want and your will does not depend on my decision, right? After all, you are a free person."

He opened the door and left the room.

"Thank you very much!"

Smiling, he closed the door. He had become far too soft, first Roronoa cracked his wall and now she appealed to his good-naturedness.

"Tze."

-Zoro-

Boredom!

By the late morning, they had arrived on some island whose name Zoro had already forgotten. He had spent the whole day with Eizen and Rihaku in a sultry room and had been preparing for tomorrow's meeting.

But now he was lying on a huge bed in an even bigger room and was supposed to read through several reports, but if he was honest, he didn’t want to at all.

He looked disheartened at the small, white transponder snail in his hand. Of course, he could call the Shichibukai now, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea at all.

But no, after all, the other one had not even stood up yesterday to say goodbye. Moreover, Zoro still did not know what the real problem was, about which he should decide.

Yes, he got the part with the fear, partly at least. Understood what the other meant, but the thing was simply that he didn't feel like he was holding back. Of course, his Haki had lasted much longer than before, but simply because that had been the whole sense behind Zoro learning to regulate his Haki flow and after hours of hard training it was understandable when his punches grew weaker.

He sighed deeply, left the bed, and stored the snail between his belongings again. He only had a few days to find out what Mihawk had meant, otherwise they wouldn't continue training and they had to. After all, the six months were almost over and that was the time Zoro had given himself to survive in the New World. Just because he could stay on Kuraigana much longer did not change his determination. How could he face his fears when he didn't even feel like he was running away from them?

He began to brush his annoying hair. An activity out of pure boredom, which he had probably copied from Perona, even if he would never admit it.

Well, what was the worst thing that could happen if he lost control again?

That he injured Perona and Mihawk, logically. But no, the Shichibukai was clearly superior to him, and even if Mihawk could not really stand Perona, he would not allow Zoro to kill her if he would lose it again.

Quietly grumbling under his breath, he put the brush aside and braided his hair.

That he would be immobile again after that?

Well, that wasn't nice, of course, but he had already taken worse blows to get stronger. Moreover, transforming into its true form was much more painful. Even now, after training it for months, it always left him a little breathless to turn into Zoro, not that he let that stop him.

But what else could it be? That he died while trying?

No, he wasn't afraid of death, certainly not now.

So, what the hell should stop him from giving everything in training?

"Sorry." A loud knock came from the room door and a young soldier came in. She had her eyes pinned on a large scroll from which she began to read: "Honorable Lady Loreen, my name is Yaone and in the name of the entire Marine and in the name of the Lord..."

Damn it!

Zoro didn’t listen to her at all. He knew her. Damn it! He knew this woman!

He recalled her long, blood-red hair, which was now cut off at chin-length, the slightly too tight Marine uniform, which she had now replaced with a better-fitting one.

_Oh, by the way, I’m Yaone. What’s your name?_

He remembered her never-ending babbling and what he had done. She was the G-6 soldier who had unknowingly helped him. The soldier he had left to die during the break-out.

But that alone was not the reason why he felt hot and cold at the same time.

The soldier was still concentrating on her text, her right hand wrapped in bandages: "... I wish you a pleasant stay and if you have any further questions, the soldiers of the headquarters and the staff are at your disposal."

_Click_

“What…?”

Surprised, the young woman looked up and turned to Zoro, who had scurried past her and had just closed and locked the room door, Josei in one hand. With her eyes open, she stared at him and dropped the parchment roll.

"But... but what the hell..."

The next moment she reached for her sword, but Zoro was faster. In one flowing movement, he ripped off her belt with Josei and hurled it over to him. Without barely having to move, he caught her sword, still blocking the door.

"I would not do that," he advised, disapprovingly.

What a bad timing.

She still looked at him as if she were seeing a ghost. She shook her head slightly and looked for help from left to right, but without leaving him out of sight.

"Okay, listen to me," Zoro grumbled, trying to calm her down, "we can sort this out here now in peace without anyone being hurt, okay?"

Now she looked directly at him again, even though her gaze briefly darted to her sword.

"What the hell are you?" She whispered, pulling a small dagger out of her sleeve. Not that it would pose a threat to Zoro; even as Loreen, he was miles ahead of her. Still, her question confused him a little.

"Well, the same as you," he said coolly, "a reborn."

"What?!" She shook her head but seemed to keep herself under control. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Lady Loreen. But I demand you to give back my sword and to retreat from the door."

"Unfortunately, I can't do that," he disagreed with a wry grin.

"Excuse me?"

It was surprising to Zoro that she apparently had no idea what he was talking about, after all he could see her shadow. The blurring and manifesting shadowed revealed Zoro that this woman, like himself, had once died and then decided to continue her old life in a new body.

But just as he could see her shadow, she had to see his, had to recognize his true figure, and so he ran the risk of revealing his greatest secret. Here, on an island of the World Government swarming with Marines, for once without Hawk Eyes. If he didn't think of anything soon, he would really be in a state of trouble.

"What are you?" The soldier asked him again. "A shapeshifter?"

"You have no idea what's going on here, do you?" He muttered, casually wondering why everyone was always thinking of shapeshifters. There were no such fairy tales. Well, maybe it was more likely than to rise from the dead.

She went into combat position and looked at him seriously.

"Obviously, I have just revealed a secret of World Government. Roronoa Zoro never died but was given a new body."

"Um... that's not what this is about.”

She was apparently misunderstanding something.

But why was she even thinking that he had something to do with the World Government... oh yes, Lady Loreen, Eizen, if he was honest, it seemed perhaps understandable; at least it was probably more realistic than the truth.

"I don't care!" She growled. "If you are really Roronoa Zoro, then I have no choice but to arrest you so that you can be judged for your terrible deeds."

"You take the whole thing here quite calmly," Zoro said approvingly. "You really think I'm Roronoa Zoro?"

"Well," she muttered with a mocking grin, "I do doubt my sanity a little bit. Lady Loreen and Roronoa Zoro are supposed to be the same person? Tze, I rather think that this is a bad dream."

For a second, Zoro took the time to weigh up the probability, but then he shook his head.

"Listen, Yaone - that was your name, wasn't it? - I don't have time for any problems, understood? So, if you want to, I'll tell you what's going on. But if you plan on walking out of this door and start some gossip, yeah, I think then I've got to stop you."

He didn't like it at all. How could he actually stop her, without actually killing her?

A nasty voice in his mind told him that he had tried this before and that it wouldn't make much difference, but somehow things were different now, what was at stake was different now. He could also do without killing some girl.

"No words in the world can change what has happened," she replied unforgivingly, "and nothing in the world could atone for Roronoa Zoro's guilt."

Did she still think she was sleeping?

"You're right," Zoro agreed. "There is nothing to justify these acts. Nevertheless..." He pointed his sword at her. "I can't just let you go like that."

She attacked. It took less than two seconds for her to land on her butt, her dagger in his free hand.

"Uff," she muttered, and suddenly looked at him unsettled, „so it's not a dream?"

Zoro sighed heavily and shook his head.

"But that's impossible," she muttered, pointing at him with her index finger outstretched. "That means... you're still alive!"

"You got it now?"

"But then... then I have to... "

"Save it and just listen to me for a moment." He squatted in front of her on the floor, still between her and the door. "So you really have no idea that you are a reborn?"

She looked at him in doubt.

"What? What are you talking about?"

For a moment he scratched his neck and tried to find a solution.

"Have you ever been to the G-2 and met Comil?"

Again she shook her head and Zoro realized that it was probably his job to explain everything to her if he wanted to prevent her from betraying him. He rose again and leaned against the door.

"Okay, then I'm probably the unlucky fellow who has to teach you the rules. You probably won't believe me, but it's important that you understand the following..." And then he began to explain to her everything he knew, well, almost everything. He told her about the reborn, who - as the name suggested - were reborn in a foreign body after a mostly violent death. He told her about his own fate, and he told her about Comil, the commander of the G-2, who was also a reborn and had gathered a crowd of like-minded people around him. He even had helped Zoro at the Marine ball, where Zoro himself had found out that Comil's real name was Jade, a far-sighted lady who had seen a lot in her life.

In the beginning, the young woman had listened to him obviously suspiciously and confused. Her face had told Zoro that she had tried to come up with an escape plan, but at some point she had given him her full attention.

He just described to her what her shadow looked like. "... and I have no idea why you don't remember your old life, but obviously you belong to us," he concluded his minute-long explanation.

She remained silent for an eternity, and Zoro pondered what to do with her. The reborn's code of honor stated that they had to help and not betray each other. But how could he impose these rules on her?

"Why are you telling me all this?" She finally muttered, even though he had already told her about the code. "After all, now I know everything."

"So?" He said coolly, leaning against the door. "Let's be honest. Who would believe you? You have no evidence. The Marines believe I'm dead and Jade will certainly not agree with you, because then she would have to explain where she knows it from and that would endanger all other reborns."

She looked at him seriously as he continued: "We help each other, because none of us knew what happened at first. Because you don't remember your old life, you might be different from me, but I'm sure Comil can help you too."

She looked up in amazement. Although he was relieved how easy it was for her to take it all in, somehow he also distrusted the whole thing.

"So, what are you going to do?" He asked her directly.

Surprised, she opened her mouth without saying anything before finally rising.

"I don't know," she confessed, "it's all crazy, and yet I see it with my own eyes. If you're the monster Roronoa Zoro, I'll have to arrest you, but who would believe me."

She folded her arms.

"I could kill you, but then the whole world would think that I killed Lady Loreen, and even if I would be willing to make this sacrifice, even drawing Hawk Eyes’ wrath willingly on me, I could also be wrong and responsible for the suffering of innocent people."

She wouldn’t, but Zoro didn't need to spell that out for her.

"Will you kill me?" She asked him. "Just like you tried back then?"

"I'd like to avoid it," he replied honestly, "even if I can't excuse what I did, I had to do it to save my crew, and I'd do it again today if I could protect them."

She exhaled heavily and her face distorted with hatred.

"However, the situation here is quite different. There's no one I'd have to protect here, besides - and you probably don't believe me now - but I'm not killing for fun. So I'd like to take a different path."

"Yes, good idea," she grumbled disparagingly, "turn yourself in. Then all problems would be solved."

Zoro scratched the back of his head and destroyed his carefully braided hairstyle.

"Or not. So, quite apart from the fact that I have better things to do than to be executed by the World Government, it would come out so sooner or later that Lady Loreen and Roronoa Zoro are one and the same person, and that in turn would put the other reborns - like you - in danger."

Dissatisfied, she bit her lip.

"So," she asked him, "what are we doing now?"


	36. Chapter 32 - Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody!
> 
> I hope you had a pleasent friday and are ready for the weekend. I know things are crazy right now in the world, so I'm glad I can distract myself a little bit with working on those fics, and I hope they give you a break of real life too^^
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words, I really appreciate them and you guys are the reason why I post these stories, so I'm glad to hear your voices (all of them ;-P)
> 
> Have a good weekend
> 
> Sharry

Chapter 32 - Family

-Zoro-

Yaone had not betrayed him.

Perhaps it was due to the lucky coincidence that Comil had arrived the same day and had more or less freed Zoro from his brittle situation, but the soldier with the blood-red hair had decided to spare him _for now_ – as she had emphasized – and Zoro didn’t mind.

It wasn't as if he didn't already have enough problems with Eizen, who was now standing in his room door, as always with a small smile on his wrinkled lips and a pair of impermeable sunglasses on his nose.

"You did well today," the politician praised, closing the door behind him.

Zoro disliked the whole situation. Whenever the other visited him in his private rooms it could only mean one thing. As if on command, Eizen pulled down his glasses and looked at him with a smile. Then his eyes flashed red.

"And how you settled that whole situation with the young soldier really impressed me. Whatever you told her, she didn't actually betray you, even though you almost killed her back then. Bravo." He put his glasses back on and applauded Zoro quietly. "That saved me a lot of work. Soldiers are always so uncooperative when it comes to secrets, most don't accept hush-money or anything like that, and my alternatives are limited."

"Stop this nonsense," Zoro disagreed, turning away from him. He would never admit to the other what Eizen wanted to hear. Eizen knew the truth, but that didn't mean Zoro had to admit it.

The politician raised both arms apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I know you want to avoid this provoking subject and of course it's quite idle to talk about this dark past in such an impressive place."

"Would you mind explaining why you honor me with your visit?" Zoro was tired. Tomorrow, he would finally leave. The meeting had been surprisingly brief, not even two hours, and the following announcement had taken only a few minutes. The headquarters of the Marines, which had been almost completely destroyed during the Great War, was to be moved to the New World. The proposal had been approved unanimously.

The politician laughed softly.

"Your patience is not as persistent today as usual, right?"

How could Zoro respond honestly without insulting the other at the same moment?

"You may be right," he quipped.

Eizen smiled broadly before his face became serious.

"Well, then I just come directly to the reason of my visit."

Silently Zoro took a deep breath, but outwardly he tried to maintain his poker face.

"I wanted to talk to you again about today."

That surprised Zoro. Less than an hour ago, he had sat in their common room with the politician and his assistant and discussed the very subject.

"I thought we already did," Zoro replied coolly, sitting down on the chair at his desk. His feet were burning, since the early morning he was already running around in these high heels, he hadn’t worn for months.

"That is true, I would just like to draw your attention to a small but important matter. Did you notice the change of mood in the conference room after Ms. Rihaku gave her speech?"

Zoro nodded.

Of course, Rihaku had been the last speaker, and by the time of her speech, opinions had been divided and hostile. After her speech however, there had not even been abstentions in the vote, let alone votes against the move.

"Words have power, my dear, you should be aware of that by now. Ms. Rihaku has a distinct talent when it comes to harnessing this power, but even she can't keep up with your gift."

Zoro did not respond. He was tired of having to talk about it over and over again. After all, he hadn't chosen all of this here.

"And yet, your gift alone will not suffice. I can only put that many words in your mouth. All this is useless if you are unable to withstand and refute the opinion of others."

"What do you mean by that?"

Had the other not yet understood who Zoro was? He was confident enough to form his own opinion and wouldn't just overturn it because of a small speech. Especially not when it was Eizen's speech.

"Many of those present today had a strong will, I would like to think of them comparable to your own strong will, and yet a few wisely chosen words were enough to change their minds."

Zoro looked directly at the other. He didn't want to be intimidated by him.

"It's not just the will, your own opinion, that matters. I promise you that with the right words you can impose your will and leave the other in the belief that they just won. It is easy to lose your own intentions. When you negotiate, you quickly forget that it's not about the price." Zoro had no idea what the other was talking about. "Do you know what my goal at this congress was, my dear?"

"That's what we talked about," Zoro replied frowningly. "You wanted the Marine Headquarters to be moved to the G-1 base."

"Oh, no." Now Eizen laughed again and shook his head slightly, as if Zoro's answer were extremely naive. "That's just what I've discussed with you and Ms. Rihaku so that she would focus her speech on the benefits of swapping the two bases. My goal was a completely different one."

The politician grinned broadly while Zoro wondered how Eizen could have achieved his real goal if the politician did not want the headquarters to be relocated.

"All I wanted to achieve was for the headquarters to stay close to the Red Line, close to Mary Joa, to be precise."

Zoro could not deny being surprised. The Base of the G-1 was in the New World but was not really further away than the island of the current headquarters.

“You see, it never was about where the headquarters are actually located as long as it stayed within reach, so I was able to make concessions, concessions that weren't important to me. But my opponents believe that my concessions amounted to a surrender. They wanted to move the Marine headquarters and they won. But exactly where I wanted it. Do you see what the difference is?"

The much bigger question was why the other told him all of this.

"It is important not to lose sight of the real goal, my dear. Our opponents have lost themselves while trying to reach the transfer, thus they haven't even thought about the background."

Zoro remained silent as the other turned around and walked to the door.

“I confess that this is probably a lot for you. Think about my words in peace. Over time, you will understand."

The politician opened the door.

"Eizen." Zoro looked thoughtfully at his fingers before looking up. The other showed his polite smile as always. "Why did you want the headquarters to stay close to the Red Line?"

Shaking his head, the elder closed the door again.

"A good question, my dear. Very good. The answer is simple. Control is much easier if the headquarters of the executive is not on the other side of the world."

That answer was not enough for Zoro.

"You're not just about control, are you?" He said aloud. "Do you want to achieve a concentration of all powers?"

"But my dear," the politician laughed falsely indignantly. "I am only a representative of the World Government, in no position of power. So why should I do something so recklessly dangerous?" 

So that was what he wanted.

"Well, I recommend myself and wish you a pleasant night's sleep."

The door fell close behind Eizen. What was the reason behind this visit? Did he just want to initiate Zoro into his plan? Or did he really want to teach him the sleight of hand in politics? But why did he do it behind Rihaku's back?

Or... Or... what was this about? A pure demonstration of power?

Zoro was confused. But as he walked through the room and finished, he realized something else.

_Lost themselves_.

For a second, his gaze glided over to his sword, which hung over the desk like innocent decoration. At last he knew now what Mihawk had meant. Zoro understood, so that was what he was afraid of, and now he had to decide whether he was ready to overcome that fear.

-Mihawk-

Hands folded in his lap or apart on the armrests? Should he stand or sit? Or maybe sit at the beginning and get up?

Shaking his head, Mihawk dropped onto the armchair, which almost resembled a throne, and stared down the three steps, along the empty hall to the large sliding door.

He did not know why he was so nervous, why he had to prove himself. In fact, he had never been concerned about what others thought of him. No, he was rarely interested in anything like that. Nevertheless, even Mihawk was only a human being and could not quite acquit himself of these human qualities. There were a few people whose opinions were important to him, and he did not want to disappoint.

However, the visitor was not one of them!

Mihawk knew full well that he just wanted to prove himself to the newcomer, just to brag. Childish certainly, but nevertheless a small wish for its fulfillment he had been looking forward to for years.

Dull echoed the closing of the heavy entrance gates through the cold castle. The visitor had therefore arrived, welcomed by Perona. Mihawk took a deep breath, finally, it was about time. He could hear his heartbeat loudly, almost as annoying as the ticking of a clock while the few seconds seemed to stretch and then the gate-like sliding door finally opened. Crossing his legs, Mihawk spread both arms slightly, as if he wanted to welcome the visitor, or only to show off what he called his own.

"Mihawk, I’m glad to see you again," said the newcomer, confidently walking through the large hall.

Now he got up.

"Nataku", greeted Mihawk coolly, "I would like to welcome you, but unfortunately your visit is far from welcome to me."

Homura Nataku, Vice Admiral of the Marine and the third best swordsman in the world, smiled slightly and stopped in front of Mihawk, had to look up at him thanks to the three small steps, which did not seem to intimidate him.

"Just as always, Mihawk," the elder replied, still smiling, before turning away and taking an expansive moment to inspect the throne room. "You have chosen an impressive home here."

Ha! Even he couldn't deny it. Yes, this castle was a bit more magnificent than just a small estate, wasn't it?

"However, it is quite bleak, so many rooms that no one uses. Aren't you lonely, all by yourself on an abandoned island?"

Tze, how did this tramp dare?

"I appreciate my peace," Mihawk grumbled cold, noting the other to take a seat while he also settled down on his chair, "and I do not live here by myself."

The soldier followed his request and sat on the wooden chair from the kitchen.

"Are you talking about this maid over there?" Nataku asked, nodding over to the ghost girl still standing in the door frame. "Or do you mean Lady Loreen, who is just travelling with Rishou Eizen?" 

The chair creaked slightly as the soldier folded his arms and smiled smugly.

"We should have a drink. Maid, please bring us a..."

"Her name is Perona and she is a guest here on Kuraigana," Mihawk interrupted him, "and you have no authority here."

He then nodded to Perona, who quickly left the room and closed the door behind her.

"And of course, my protégé has the freedom to pursue own projects without my presence. Incidentally, I do not know why Lady Loreen's activities would concern you."

Nataku's smile only got a touch slimmer.

"You are irritated, as always, when I meet you, Mihawk."

"I am not a friend of the unnecessary pastime, Nataku, so be so kind of finally telling me the reason of your presence and stop wasting my time."

The soldier's smile disappeared, but instead he looked almost depressed to the ground.

"This subject doesn’t seem to matter to you, Mihawk."

"It does not just seem like that."

Now Nataku stared at him with his eyes wide open, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"We're talking about your father here, and instead of taking to your heels to rush to him, you let me come here and treat me like an insignificant messenger."

Mihawk shook his head. "Are you here to blame me or to fulfill your mission?" He asked, unimpressed.

"Do you really not care at all?!" To his surprise, Nataku jumped up. The cold blade of justice seemed to be extremely irritable today. Mihawk had almost won this game. "Or don't you understand it? Gat is seriously ill; it might be that he..."

"I do not care," Mihawk replied cold. "Only a fool indulges in such amounts of alcohol and then wonders, when the body capitulates."

"Don't talk so disrespectful about..."

"About who? My father? Oh, please, this man is as important to me as a grain of dust on a picture frame. Whether he lives or dies is not important for my life."

The Vice Admiral trembled with anger, clenching his fists. It had to be frustrating wanting to beat some sense into someone, but just being too weak to do so, not that Mihawk could relate, he had never been that weak.

Complacently, Mihawk rested his right elbow on the armrest and stroked over his beard. He almost enjoyed watching the other like this, finally seeing him so helpless – powerless - in front of him.

Shaking his head, Nataku stared to the ground.

"I can't believe what I hear you say. I never thought that you would let this family..."

"What family, Nataku?" He interrupted him again. "The Draclue family has ceased to exist a long time ago."

"And what about your father, Mihawk? What about me?"

"Do not dare to act like you are family member of mine!" He hissed. "You are nothing more than a greedy freeloader, you are nothing."

Nataku wanted to respond, but Mihawk kept talking: "And as for my father: He betrayed this _family_ a long time ago, he let down the islands, the duties of the name Dracule, and his children; everything that had ever been important to his wife."

The soldier dropped on the chair.

"He made his mistakes, Mihawk, but he had lost his wife and daughter, can't you understand that? Now he may be dying, and you don't even want to say _goodbye to_ him?"

"Tze." Mihawk laughed coldly and rose. This was almost ridiculous. Still smiling, he walked around his throne and then grabbed the back of his chair with both hands. "Now that he is running out of life, he suddenly needs the certainty that everything is forgiven, that I will mourn for him?"

Mihawk tried to stay serious, but how could he face such ridicule without sarcasm? Not only that his father had just now decided to care about blood relatives, but Nataku as well acted as if he were a family member?

Mihawk had little choice but to take it with humor, otherwise the uninvited guest would hardly survive his wrath.

"You are right," Mihawk continued, but now deadly serious. “I do not know what it means to lose wife and child. But you know what, I lost my mother and sister that day, and what does my father do? He disappears to the end of the world, leaving me - a twelve-year-old brat - in charge of the five islands. He was not there when I swore allegiance to the Marines, nor when I broke that oath, not even when I became a Shichibukai."

"He mourned, Mihawk, but he never rejected you."

Why did he have to justify himself to this guy, to this parasite?

"No, he did not reject me. He abandoned me, exposed to death like cattle in a burning barn. So no, I am not going to come to him now. If I survived almost thirty years without a father, then he can die without a son."

That was not how the whole thing was supposed to work. Mihawk knew he was superior to this tramp, so why did he feel the urgent need to throw Nataku out right now?

"You're so selfish," Nataku muttered, looking up at him, but remained seated. "I'm not saying that Gat was a saint. Of course, he has not been spared from misdeeds, but you act like he had left you in the streets. After your mother's death, your father rushed to work, but you were in good hands, Kanan and Tenkai were at your side as counselors and role models."

"Tze."

"You say your father left you behind, but he was there after you betrayed him and turned your back on the Marines, only thanks to his word you became Shichibukai and Jiroushin and this doctor were allowed to keep their lives." Now it was the soldier who continued to speak and did not allow Mihawk to interrupt. "You say Gat left you behind to die and yet you didn't have to go hungry or worry about money for a day in your life. Your name alone is worth more than the lives of many. Even now, as a criminal, you go in and out with the rich and powerful like in a public bath."

For an eternal second, they looked at each other.

"Do you think that is what I care about," Mihawk asked, and decided to flip the scale back in his favor. "About the name Dracule, about the money and prosperity? Tze, as expected from a have-not like you. But you are wrong. If my inheritance requires me to forgive my father, I do not want it."

He remained calm as he supported his forearms on the backrest and leaned forward.

"For all I care, you can snap it all up, Nataku. I do not care. A burden less, Sasaki has not been my home for a long time and besides, my father has always preferred you in the role of the son over me."

"That’s enough!" Once again, the other stood up and placed one foot on the lowest stair. "I'm tired of your fuss, Mihawk. You are still the little brat from back then, who feels sorry for himself and blames the world."

His words did not impress Mihawk in the least.

"In your deformed perception, you pretend to be the outsider in your family, the unwelcome addon, but we both know that you chose this place yourself. Your parents have given you everything a child could wish for and you..."

"Do you think you are in a position to judge my childhood? You are nothing more than..."

"Don't pretend to be the victim in this story!"

Now they were directly opposite each other, only the throne between them.

"We all lost a lot that day, you know? It wasn't just your sister and mother, Taruchie was also Gat's wife, Sharak was also his daughter and my..."

"Don't end this sentence!"

Mihawk swept the chair to one side.

"Don't place yourself on the same level with me, Nataku! You only used her, she was for you nothing but your way into a world of glitter and gold, of power and honor. She was never much more than a step on the ladder for you. Like my father with my mother, you didn't want more than her name and her money. So, don’t you dare..."

"I loved her."

For a moment, the world froze. But only for a fraction of a second.

"Liar. You took advantage of her, weaved her into your spider web of flattery and fairy tales. You changed her; she was just a shadow of herself after she fell for your intrigues. That wasn't love, that was..."

"You didn't change, that's the problem! Despite your height, despite your age, you haven't matured a bit, Mihawk! You've always been so obsessed with her; you circled her like bees round a honeypot. No, you have rather guarded her like a dragon his treasure. You were so afraid that someone might come and even steal one single coin from you, but she never belonged to you, she wasn’t a subject under your control."

"Do you even listen to this..."

"For you, Sharak was always just your sister, but you never saw her for what she was. A young woman with dreams and ideas, a warrior with a unique sense of justice and also a..."

"Don't you dare talk about her dreams! I know all her dreams, she wanted to see the world, explore cultures, but then you turned up and took it all from her. Suddenly she was supposed to settle down, start a family, give up everything she ever loved."

"She hasn't given up anything!" Nataku grabbed him by the collar, tears threatened to betray him. "She's gotten older, damn it! Her view of the world has changed. She was no longer a child and so her dreams had changed. But you held on to your young sister in such a way that you couldn't see that she had grown up. You just didn't want to see how happy she was.”

Mihawk remained silent, he would not be captured by these lies.

"At some point you have to grow up, Mihawk, and then you might long for things other than great adventures. I would never have forced her to do anything she didn't want. I would never have asked her to leave the Marines to raise children. But she has thought about this possibility, because she wanted to, because she wanted something different in her life."

"No."

"Yes, I know you don't want to see it, Mihawk. But Sharak was happy with me and I loved her."

"No!"

Mihawk slapped the other's hands away.

"Enough is enough," he growled, turning away, but Nataku simply continued.

"The truth is, neither has your father left you, nor have I taken your sister from you. You were obsessed with her and didn't want anything to change; you wanted to stay forever this little boy that your big sister was looking after. But she has changed, she has evolved, and you have never gotten over it."

"You overstressed my patience, Nataku. Enough is enough!"

"You have blamed the whole world for losing your sister, the Marines, the pirates, your father, me. But the truth is, the only reason Sharak was on that ship that day was you. She took your place because you were too lazy to fulfill your duties as a son, because she did not want to let your mother travel alone. So keep playing the victim, Mihawk, but we both know that the only one guilty here is... Uff!"

Nataku crashed against the back wall, only a few feet next to the large sliding door, just a few inches next to an old bust.

"I said it's enough!" Breathing heavily, Mihawk stood on the edge of the three steps and looked down at the man who dared to blame him for his sister's death. The woman for which he had done everything, for which he had lived, who had been his life, his sole purpose in life.

Suddenly Nataku laughed out loud and held his jaw.

"The oh so mighty Hawk Eyes."

Mihawk clenched his trembling fists.

"You should see yourself trying to run away from the truth. It's pathetic.” The soldier rose, leaning against the wall with one hand. "You always act so noble, so well educated, and so serene. But that's all just an act. This is your true self, short-tempered, badly controlled, and so full of anger and bitterness. All of this just because it's easier for you to curse the world than to live with your own guilt."

Slowly, Mihawk walked down the steps. It would be easy lose his temper now, but that was no longer necessary, instead of uncontrolled rage, he was now filled deadly anger, clearing his mind, sharpening his senses.

"Is this the reason why you have always opposed me, Nataku, so that I may atone for my guilt?"

"Quite right. It was me who betrayed your crew and I also killed this weakling from the East Blue. I wanted you to pay for what you did. I wanted you to lose everything that has ever been important to you, just as you took everything from me."

"And that is why you are after Lady Loreen."

"Oh no. In fact, this does not have as a vile motive as revenge." Nataku moved his jaw slightly, as if to check if everything was still working, then he folded his arms and approached Mihawk. "I just want to prevent you from doing the same to her as you did to Sharak. Even now it's obvious how obsessed you are with this girl. You guard her as if she were your property, as if you had any say in her life."

"You should choose your next words with caution, Nataku."

"Oh, I was careful with you long enough, Mihawk. I never cared what you did with your life. Sharak loved you, but you didn't deserve it, and now you've once again caught an innocent being and I'm not going to watch you destroy another life."

"You have no idea what you are talking about."

Again, they faced each other.

"Yes, I know. You're mentally deranged, Mihawk. You think you love someone, but the truth is that you want to dominate, control, own that person. This has nothing to do with love and at some point, Loreen - just like Sharak did then - will wake up and go her way and leave you behind and you won't be able to allow that. Because you need her so much that you can't live without her. But she doesn't need you in her life, you restrict her and hold her back. You are like a poison that kills every plant. But believe me, this girl will bloom, just not as long as she's trapped in your garden.”

They were silent for minutes.

"Are you done now?" Mihawk asked cold, pinching his eyes slightly. Every word was wisely chosen and wisely pronounced. "You can go now. Your services are no longer needed. Tell my father that I do not plan wasting a single breath on him, even if it is his last, no matter what happens to my inheritance."

"Is that all you have to say about this?"

"I did not let you come to my house to accuse and insult me, so leave now and pray that we will never run into each other again, Nataku. For, if not for my sister’s, you will have to bear the consequences for Roronoa Zoro's death."

For a second, it seemed as if the other was looking for something in Mihawk's eyes.

"Obsessed," he muttered. "Your obsessive delusion will bring you down one day, Mihawk. This obsession could be your death sentence, do you really think Sharak would have wanted that?"

"At least it will be your death sentence if you do not leave now, I can assure you."

"As you wish. Farewell, Mihawk."

Nataku turned around and walked away. He stopped at the door.

"You know, I was really trying to be like a big brother for you back then. I really tried to love you, because of your sister. She would shed tears over today's conversation. She would mourn the man you could have been if you hadn't decided to become a monster. She wouldn't have wanted you - her brother - to betray everything she had ever wanted."

The door closed.

Breathing heavily, Mihawk stood in the middle of the plain room.

He had... lost.


	37. Chapter 33 - Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff, it's getting late, but here I am, with another one of my favorite chapters (and those of you, who know me by now, can probably guess what that means for the character ;-P )
> 
> I hope you guys will enjoy and have a great week ;-)

Chapter 33 - Alcohol

-Zoro-

Yawning, he wandered through the forest, the luggage on his shoulder, far too much to be carried by such slender shoulders, but fortunately he became stronger even in his weak form.

He was a little surprised that no one had awaited him, but he didn't worry too much about it. Zoro was happy to have survived the last few days and was looking forward to continuing his training.

At last he had understood what Mihawk had meant when he had claimed that Zoro had not been fighting with full force. Zoro had finally understood that he was afraid of losing himself. It was just like when Zoro had awakened in this foreign body. The only thing he had always been able to rely on had been his own body, but then he had lost even that, his own body. Over time, Zoro had then realized that something much more important had remained with him, his will.

That's why he had hesitated, that's why he hadn't given everything, he was afraid of losing it, was still afraid of losing the only thing he hadn’t lost so far. The damn Shichibukai was right, Zoro had held back because he was afraid.

But now he had decided that he was going to risk losing himself, he had to overcome himself and that's what he would do, after all, that was his only way to become the best swordsman in the world and nothing would stop him.

Expectantly he hurried along the narrow path, couldn't wait to tell Mihawk about it. The sun behind the fog was already deep above the horizon, so they probably wouldn't train today, but tomorrow; tomorrow, Zorro would learn to get stronger.

Arriving at the castle, Zoro simply left his luggage in the entrance hall, decided not to waste another thought about Eizen, Yaone, or the assembly, but only to look forward. Zoro would transform now, then eat something and plan the next few days with the Shichibukai. The drive for action had gripped him, finally he knew what he could do, finally he could...

"Finally, you're here!" Perona stormed in through the door from the kitchen. Zoro casually noticed that she was wearing the clothes she always put on when she acted as maid, but her pale face troubled him.

"What happened?" He grumbled.

"It's Dracule," she said, nervously biting her lower lip. "He's in his room."

Zoro raised an eyebrow but said nothing and made his way to Hawk Eyes’ chambers. It was not uncommon for Perona and Mihawk to bicker with each other, in fact Zoro was no exception in such bickers, but usually Perona wasn’t really upset about it in the long run.

Zoro's room was the first in the long hallway of the bedrooms, and he used it to transform and change before visiting the Shichibukai. Whatever was going on, Zoro felt more comfortable if he could deal with it in his true form.

Down the hallway, he was still pondering whether it would have been wise to have Perona give him a warning about what he would have to expect, but it was too late for that. Somehow, he had a very odd feeling.

He knocked against the heavy oak door.

"Leave!" Came it from the other side at the same time. "I told you to leave me alone, ghost girl!"

"It's me," Zoro grumbled, pushing down the handle.

"Oh," the elder replied in an unusually brittle voice, "you're back...? Leave me alone."

Slightly surprised but even more irritated, Zoro ignored this order and opened the door.

He was rarely in these rooms – and why should he, if this castle offered hundreds of rooms that did not interfere with the privacy of his teacher? - nevertheless, Zoro had a strange moment of déjà vu as he stepped in and smelled the familiar cool wooden scent mixed with alcohol and sweat.

In the plain, albeit high-quality, bedroom, it took him a moment to figure out where Mihawk was. He sat in the passageway to the dressing room, his back leaning against the door frame, one leg on the left and the other one the right side of the door frame stretched out along the wall. A trail of empty bottles paved his way around the bed, over to the dark dresser on which Yoru lay like an uninvolved spectator, past the small reading table, to the Shichibukai himself. In one hand, he held a half-empty bottle of golden liquid.

Oh yes, Zoro recalled a few months ago, when he had already once found his teacher drunk and hangoverish in his bedroom. Luckily, this time Mihawk was dressed in more than just a pair of underpants. The slightly glassy hawk eyes swung over to him and the Shichibukai waved off.

"Get lost, Roronoa. I don't want to talk to you now."

"Duh," Zoro replied tonelessly, closing the door behind him. "Geez, you look shitty."

The other did not respond but took another swig. Zoro sighed, he had no idea what had happened, but something must have happened that the Shichibukai had decided to get wasted.

"Oh man, you're so bothersome," Zoro grumbled, stumbling across the room. Directly opposite the older man, he dropped on the floor against the wall and crossed his arms behind the back of his head.

Mihawk followed his movements more or less attentively before his gaze came to rest on Zoro's right knee, which lay just inches from his bare foot. Zoro followed the elder's gaze and watched Mihawk nudging Zoro's leg with his big toe, as if to make sure Zoro was really there, not just an imagination.

"What do you want, Roronoa?" Now Mihawk looked up to him. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I don't care," Zoro replied, unimpressed, reaching for one of the bottles around him, unfortunately they were all empty.

"Pass some over," he said, reaching out to the elder with his empty hand.

Mihawk rolled his eyes theatrically and shook his head.

"Get lost, Roronoa, I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

"Did I ask for that?" Zoro asked with a raised eyebrow, "all I want is this bottle in your hand. Or a full one, if there's another one."

"Upstairs in the kitchen."

"I'm too far away."

"In the wine cellar."

“I don't think about getting up now just to get alcohol when there's a bottle of rum in front of me.'

"That's corn."

Now Zoro grinned broadly when the other actually handed him the bottle.

"High-percentage whisky, even better."

In one go, Zoro emptied the miserable rest and enjoyed the burning sensation. Oh, how long had it been? Oh yes, since the damn Shichibukai had forbidden him to drink any booze until he could control Haki.

"Roronoa, really?" Mihawk complained.

"Oh, drop the act, you've been drinking enough."

Zoro looked around for another bottle but found none.

"Don't you have any more?" He mumbled.

"As I said," murmured the other, "in the winecel..."

"In this room, I mean."

For a long time, the usually sharp eyes of his teacher looked at him.

"What do you want, Roronoa? Can't you leave me alone for this one evening? Tomorrow I will willingly deal with your problems again."

Huffing Zoro rose and simply climbed over the other into the dressing room.

“Roronoa!”

"Stop whining, that's pathetic. And you want to be the greatest swordsman in the world?"

Zoro didn't even turn to the other while he scanned one closet after another, pulling out clothes and throwing them to the ground carelessly. Somewhere he would find one of the booze hiding spots.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself," Mihawk sighed behind him, "even I am just an ordinary person, Roronoa."

"Wrong!" Triumphantly, Zoro turned around and pointed a found full bottle at the older one. "In the end, I want to defeat you, and what would that say about my dream if you were just an ordinary person?"

"Oh Roronoa, this is Single Malt Whisky."

"Don't worry, it will serve its purpose."

Zoro climbed back over the other and dropped again on the floor of the opposite wall. Hawk Eyes groaned quietly and rubbed a hand through his face.

"Do you really have to, Roronoa? Just go to your room or wherever and let me just be this evening. When it comes to your training..."

"What are you talking about...?"

"For all I care, we can move on tomorrow. Satisfied? If it is so important to you, leave me in peace tonight for once and I will continue to train you tomorrow; everyone is happy with that, okay? Then you can now..."

“Hey!”

With his eyes wide open, the Shichibukai stared at the empty bottles missing his face only by millimeters and shattering behind him against the wall.

Zoro ripped off the cap of the whiskey and took a deep sip.

"Don’t you dare ever doing that again, understood?" He grumbled angrily, staring Mihawk down. "I don't care what your problem is, whether it's this stupid private _meeting_ of you or Eizen or if you just wanted to get wasted."

Zoro took another sip.

"I don't care if you insult me, ignore me, or chase me to hell. I don't care if you're an arrogant asshole or think you're some average John Doe pirate." He placed the half-emptied bottle on the floor. "But if you don't take my training seriously, we'll get a problem, bastard!"

They stared at each other, but Zoro didn't even think about giving in.

“I don't care what happened, but a few days ago you didn't even know if you would continue to train me at all. So if you want to fob me off with this bullshit just to have a few hours of rest, then I don't want you to be my teacher anymore, understood?"

The hawk eyes grew big.

"I'm not here for playing games, Mihawk, and I won’t sit here and let you fuck with me. So take my training seriously or let it be, get it?"

Zoro held the half-emptied bottle by the neck, ready to throw it at any time if necessary. This bastard made him crazy.

The other still looked at him with big eyes.

"What? Tongue swallowed or why can't you even give me a decent answer?"

Very slowly, the elder tilted his head to the side.

"You're truly incredible, Roronoa."

"Tell me something I don’t know," he replied, offering the bottle to the other, but Mihawk refused only with a weak hand movement. Shrugging his shoulder, Zoro took another sip.

"So, you don't want me to resume training with you tomorrow."

"Of course I do," Zoro grumbled, rubbing his sleeve over his mouth, "but I want you to do it because you think it's the right thing to do, not so you have your peace for a few hours."

The Shichibukai looked at him expressionless. The alcohol apparently drove the redness in his face, but Zoro had to admit that he probably tolerated quite a lot when he had actually emptied all these bottles here on his own. However, the Shichibukai was far from being on a par with Zoro, at least not in this area.

For some time, they remained silent while Zoro gradually emptied the bottle and Mihawk regarded him and then let the view wander through the room again. Although the alcohol obviously played badly with him, his condition was not nearly as bad as the last time Zoro had found him drunk. He even seemed to be in a fairly clear state.

"So, is that all you have to say?" The elder finally asked.

"You didn't want to talk," Zoro said briefly. "And I just wanted to drink."

"Tze." Mihawk closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door frame. "Didn't we agree on you not drinking any alcohol until you can harden your swords?"

"Yes, if only my strict teacher were around to scold me for my misbehavior?"

The other looked disapprovingly at him from half-opened eyes.

"Are you making fun of me?"

Now Zoro grinned broadly. How could he not make fun of this image of the oh so big Hawk Eyes?

"You know I could kill you by snapping my fingers," the other muttered, and as if he wanted to demonstrate, he tried to snap, but failed miserably.

"Just try it," Zoro quipped into his bottle.

Unnerved, Mihawk muttered something under his breath, but Zoro didn’t mind, if the other was upset, he only had to blame himself.

"You don’t take me seriously?"

Smiling, he answered the elder's unsteady gaze.

"Right at this moment? No."

A vein of anger appeared on the forehead of the other. He suddenly seemed furious; who knew what his drunken brain had just made up?

"Why not? Why don't I intimidate you? Treat me like respect! Be afraid of me!"

"What's wrong with you?" Now it was up to Zoro to roll his eyes. "Why should I be afraid of you?" He lifted the bottle and for a moment looked at the miserable remnant that swam back and forth on the ground. “It's absolutely stupid to be scared of another person and I don't know why I should make an exception for you.”

He emptied the bottle, but the next moment it was ripped out of his hand and Mihawk lifted him up by the collar until Zoro lost the ground under his feet, pressed him against the wall, and stared right through him.

"But you should be afraid of me!"

Before Zoro could do anything, the other hurled him to the ground. At the last moment he was able to catch himself, but Mihawk was already over him and pushed him against the cold stone.

"Do you forget who you are dealing with? I'm a Hawk Eyes! The only reason you're still alive is your goddamn, unnatural talent. Otherwise I would have killed you a long time ago!"

The Shichibukai crouched on top of him, kept his legs under control with his own and had both of his wrists pinned firmly against the hard ground with one hand. Zoro knew full well that Mihawk was superior to him; he knew full well that he could not free himself from this grip and oh how he hated it right now.

"Then do it."

The delicate hairstyle of the Shichibukai was destroyed and black strands hung in his face, partially hiding his stinging eyes, almost glowing in the dim light of the room.

Zoro had no idea what was going on with the other, but he hadn't been struggling with Eizen and other problems for five days just so that this guy would lose his mind now due to a nervous breakdown.

"I'm tired of you always threatening me with such a shit whenever it gets too much for you. I'm not afraid of you, because there's no reason for that. Just kill me if it makes you happy. Wouldn't be my first jump to the other side and back, you know?"

The other trembled, his whole body shivered. Perhaps Zoro had been wrong and the alcohol had been a bit too much for the well-educated wine drinker. Mihawk's face, on the other hand, was calm, the thin lips merely pressed together, the typical wrinkles no deeper than usual, if it weren't those eyes, those eyes that Zoro had never seen like this before.

"Well, Mihawk. Just do it." Zoro laughed softly. “But don't say I didn't warn you. If you kill me, who will one day defeat you and get your title?"

For a second, the other just stared down at him and then Zoro could see how it _clicked._

"Fuck!" Zoro groaned, but it was already too late. The world turned too fast when Mihawk picked him up by his wrist like a doll and simply hurled him through the room.

Zoro crashed heavily against table and wall, stumbling between wood and stone to the ground. He was struggling for air, fighting for breath. Coughing, he tasted blood, dust and mortar falling down on him. So that's what it looked like when the other played rough.

"Why in heaven’s name are you like this?!" The Shichibukai stood before him, hands clenched into fists, breathing at least as heavy as Zoro was. "Why do you always look at me like that? Why don't you turn your gaze away like everyone else? Why are you here at all? Why did you stay with me and not return to your friends? Why the hell aren't you afraid of me?"

"Those are a lot of questions at once," Zoro grumbled, coughing again.

But Mihawk continued his madness: "No matter what I do, no matter what I say, you don't seem to care. I could kill you, by mistake, in a moment of carelessness or in a moment of anger, fury, or just because you sometimes annoy me. I drag you into dangerous things, I place you at Nataku’s, Eizen’s, and the World Aristocrats’ mercy and you don't care. I will mean your certain death, no matter what you do, no matter what your intentions are, and you still pretend that we both..."

"Get off your high horse." His voice still barely obeyed him, and his legs trembled, his whole body hurt, but Zoro certainly wouldn't join in the other, acting like a madman and just throwing him against the next best wall. "So, first of all, you being able to kill me is nothing special. Do you know how many times Luffy has accidentally almost bumped me off or Perona almost poisoned me with her cooking? Damn it, even a dedicated duck could kill me if it just tried it hard enough, and believe me, some tried. Besides, I've been dead before, so your threats are neither special nor somehow original."

He had no idea whether the other was listening to him at all, let alone understand him. Mihawk still stood over him like a looming tower.

"Second, tell me why the hell I should be afraid of you? You said it yourself, you're just an ordinary person, just like me. There is no reason for me to be afraid of another person. You can torture me, kill me, take away everything that is important to me, and yet I will never be afraid of you, after all, you are just some human being."

Clumsily Zoro got up, he could hear something cracking in his back, presumably he had broken one or two ribs, could have been worse.

"And thirdly..." Zoro, breathing heavily, straightened up in front of the other and approached him. He grabbed the Shichibukai by the shirt and pulled it down to him, so they were on eye-level. "You are not the one to decide about my death, and certainly not about my life. I don't care what you say or do and how much I should fear you. I make my own decisions, not you. I decided to be here, not you, and I decided to ask you for help, not you. I signed this contract with Eizen and I decided to go to this ball and these events, not you!"

He let go of the Shichibukai, who yet remained in that same position, as if he were unable to move.

"You are my teacher and that is why I trust your decisions. I trust you, but I do not obey you blindly like a some freaking dog; every single time I decide to follow your orders, just like I do every single day, every single second to follow my captain. So don't pretend that you have any say in my fate, because that's what I still decide on my own!" Once again Zoro wiped his sleeve over his mouth, but this time he saw drops of blood instead of alcohol, dyeing the dark green almost black, then he stared at the other again. "And if you don't get along with that, that's your problem, get it? What you do with this, that’s your decision, but I don't care!"

Zoro turned around and left the other one behind. He walked through the room into the bathroom of the Shichibukai and he should be right; even here, between the towels he found a bottle with clear liquid. He was pretty mad. He had no idea what was going on here or what the hell was wrong with the other. He only knew that he hated being thrown through the room like a ball and listening to the words of some madman, for he already had enough problems with Eizen.

When he had washed his face and returned to the main room, he saw the Shichibukai squatting at the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. Well, hopefully he wouldn’t start bawling now.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The other did not respond.

Murmuring under his breath, Zoro picked up the heavy armchair that had overturned during his flight session and settled in it.

"You bastard broke me at least one rib," he complained as he opened the bottle and took a generous sip. It was absinthe. Not that Zoro was picky when it came to alcohol, but this really wasn't the good stuff. Shrugging his shoulder, he took another sip, for disinfection of the internal wounds of course. With his eyebrow raised, he observed the Shichibukai, who still didn’t move.

"I think I've figured out why you didn't want to train me any further. I think I'm ready now." Again, he received no reaction from the elder, slowly it became creepy. But it was even more annoying, so Zoro drank from the disgusting brew and kept talking. "By the way, the meeting was quite interesting, it was about the relocation of the Marine Headquarters."

Mihawk still didn’t react so Zoro took that as a sign to talk. He told the other about everything that had happened during his journey, from Yaone to Comil to the meeting and its outcome. He even mentioned his conversations with Eizen, paying attention to what he was telling the other, regardless of whether the Shichibukai listened to him at all. Zoro also spoke about the things he had been thinking about concerning his training and how he had come to his decision.

All this time there was no reaction from the elder and after Zoro had nothing more to say and the bottle of absinthe was also well emptied, they just sat there in silence. Through the wide window behind the head end of the bed, the night had long since fallen in and only pale moonlight cast blurred shadows over the few furniture.

Zoro, meanwhile, had pinned his eyes to Yoru. The sword to the left of his master seemed to hum constantly, now much quieter than before, but still not as pleasant as usual. He suspected that even the Black Sword was not used to its master letting himself go like this.

Zoro really wondered what had happened while he had left the island. His back still hurt, but a few cracked rips wouldn’t stop him. His left wrist on the other side bothered him a little more. He hadn't noticed it at first, probably because of the adrenaline or simply because he had snapped for a second, but as swollen as it was now, he could assume that something was broken as well.

Sighing, he emptied the absinthe. To his surprise, he saw Mihawk looking up and at him with at least as much astonishment.

"Roronoa?" He muttered. "You are still here?"

"Obviously."

Mihawk still looked at him like an unfamiliar creature.

"Why are you still here?" He asked, confused.

"Where should I have gone?" Zoro replied with a shrug.

Now the other turned his gaze away.

"I am sorry," he whispered, "I hurt you."

"Oh, don't worry about it." Again, Zoro shrugged. "Not my worst injuries, especially not from you."

But the Shichibukai still didn't look at him. With one hand he rubbed his neck and with the other he tried to stroke the wild strands of hair back, but reluctantly they jumped forward again.

"Are you finally telling me what's going on?"

Now the Shichibukai looked at him. It wasn't that Zoro was keen to deal with the problems of others, but hey, that guy had just catapulted him through the room like a cannon ball and then didn't move for over half an hour, something wasn't right and if Zoro wanted to train tomorrow, he'd have to sort it out now.

"Why do you even care? You would be right to leave this room and never want to change a word with me again."

"Oh God, you are pathetic." Unnerved, Zoro rolled his eyes. "Have you always been so dramatic, or did it come with the age?"

Shaking his head, he leaned to the side to keep a better eye on the other.

"Well honestly, that easily you won’t get rid of me, you have to come up with something other than your theatrical behavior." Quietly, he sighed. "Besides, we are friends, aren't we?"

He could see Mihawk stop breathing, which he accepted with a quiet smile.

"Look, it’s true, all this stuff here is incredibly annoying, but I learned from my crew that friends are there for each other. I'm not as good at this stuff like Robin, but I'm the only one here, so tough look.”

Grinning, Zoro watched as the other processed his words. Then the elder laughed quietly and shook his head.

"You are incredible, Roronoa."

"Tell me something I don’t know."

Again, they looked at each other.

"So, what happened, Mihawk?" Zoro repeated his question, not so much because he was really interested, but rather because he could do without something like this happening again in the next few days.

"Nataku was here," the other muttered.

"Homura?"

Mihawk nodded to the floor. This would at least explain why the Shichibukai had resisted Zoro's journey so little and had not even insisted on coming along.

"We had an argument and well, what can I say, it seems like I lost."

"And that's why you're making such a fuss?"

"It was about Sharak."

"Oh." So, it had been about his deceased sister, who had adored little-Mihawk, the woman who, according to the Shichibukai, had far surpassed even his abilities.

"You know Nataku was her fiancé?"

Zoro nodded slightly. At some point somewhere he had already picked that information up.

"In his opinion, I will be your downfall, just as I drove my sister to her death."

Zoro didn't know what surprised him more, what Mihawk had just told him, or that he spoke to him so openly at all.

“I know that my feelings towards Sharak have always been quite extraordinary and I cannot deny that she died because of me. But I do not want to be responsible for your death, I do not want that something might happen to you because of..."

"One more word and I will throw some bottles again!" Shocked, the other pulled his head up and stared at him, while Zoro held the empty absinthe bottle at its neck, ready to throw it at any time. "I haven't heard such a nonsense in a long time and I'm a member of a crew full of idiots."

“Roronoa?”

"Don’t _Roronoa_ me. Did you just listen to me for a second? I decide my fate, okay? Not you, not Luffy, and certainly not some third-rate Marine swordsman, who is too stupid to know when to keep his mouth shut."

"But Roronoa, what are you..."

"Shut up!" Now he threw the bottle, but so lightly that it only slapped against Mihawk's arm and clumsily thumped on the blanket. "So, to make this clear once and for all. I have no idea what was going on with your sister back then and honestly, I don’t care. But as far as I'm concerned, I can make my own decisions, no matter what you or some idiot says, and I won't let anyone take that right away. For all I care, you are my downfall or the incarnate misfortune. For all I care, you have driven your sister to death and are so fanatical that you do the same with me. But do you know what? These are all your problems!"

The other opened his mouth, but Zoro wasn't finished.

"You know, I'm strong and I do have an even stronger will. Maybe your sister didn't get along with your weirdness, no idea, maybe you were really obsessed with her like a madman. I don't care, but I get on with it, I can deal with bad luck. I can manage you with all your annoying quirks, with all your arrogant behavior and all your unnecessary worry. Because I am strong and because I can take care of myself and make decisions for myself."

Mihawk still looked at him in disbelief, even shaking his head slightly.

“So, stop disrespecting my decisions. I am old enough to choose the people in my life. You're really annoying, but not as bad as the fucking cook, and I can deal with you most of the time quite well, so don't pretend I'm not responsible for all this here, as if you were to blame for anything. In the house Dracule it might be a rule to take responsibility for those you bring home, but I am a Roronoa and a Roronoa does not let anyone make decisions for themselves."

Deeply, Zoro breathed in. How did the others from the crew always manage to talk so much during such conversations? He was already annoying himself.

The Shichibukai first looked at the bottle next to him and then looked up to him.

"A lot of words by your standards, Roronoa," the elder agreed.

"And you're pretty stupid by your standards," he said, rubbing his eyes. Man, the other was such a bother.

"Did you seriously mean all of this what you just said?" Mihawk looked at him with his head tilted. "Or do you just say that to make me feel better?"

"Tze." Zoro smiled slightly. "I'm not lying just so some sissy won’t feel attacked, you should know."

The elder nodded, rose, and looked out of the window with his arms crossed. Zoro watched him. The small outburst of anger had at least made him sober.

"I have to apologize to you, Roronoa," Mihawk said again as rational as always. "Once again I let myself be overwhelmed by my emotions and put you in danger. Something like this should not happen to someone like me.”

Shaking his head, Zoro also folded his arms.

"What’s the deal about emotion and danger?" He got up and went to the door. "You know, I don't care about all the crap. Time will show what is stronger, your misfortune or my luck, so stop talking about such garbage and just come with me."


	38. Chapter 34 - Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Hope you guys are doing well, we're about to enter a new 'arc' (I guess that's how you would say, although I never before actually divided my fics into arcs, but well, whatever -_(^^)_- ) and I'm really excited about this one, things will move more forward from now on, which is good, considering how far along the road we already are^^
> 
> So I hope you'll enjoy this calm chapter before another storm and hope you'll have a great weekend, be patient ;-)

Chapter 34 - Second

-Zoro-

"Where are you going?" He heard the other call after him as Zoro opened the door and left the room.

"To the kitchen, there's more alcohol."

Mihawk scoffed silently. "You just drank a bottle of the finest whisky plus some absinthe, is that not enough considering your months of abstinence?"

"Says the guy who just drank six bottles of booze on his own."

To his surprise, the elder actually followed him to the abandoned kitchen. Perona had obviously already gone to bed and the old clock above the even older stove told Zoro that it was already much later than expected. While Zoro searched the kitchen for snacks, the Shichibukai brought several bottles to the table before sitting down on the kitchenette with a bowl of nuts in his hands.

"There are chairs," Zoro grumbled, falling down on one of them, throwing his feet on another one before reaching for a bottle.

"They are too uncomfortable. Can we not go to the fireplace room?"

With his eyebrow raised, Zoro turned towards the elder.

"Now I'm sitting, so let's stay."

Mihawk did not respond but began to empty the bowl.

"What did Homura actually want?" Zoro asked, chewing on an old rice ball. "He certainly didn't show up to fight with you because of your sister."

From the corner of his eye he could see the other shaking his head with a subtle grin. For some long minutes, they remained silent. Zoro was already used to it. Mihawk simply didn’t always want to talk or needed an eternity to arrange his thoughts. Zoro didn’t mind, this way at least he had some time to enjoy his booze. After such a welcome, he also had a bitter need for it.

"It may be that my father is dying," the other replied indifferently, eating his nuts.

"Oh, my condolences?"

“Not needed, I have not spoken to him for years and I see no reason for that to change.”

Zoro nodded wordlessly and watched the golden liquid in his bottle.

"You disagree, Roronoa?"

Surprised, he looked up.

"What? No, it's just..." Zoro shrugged.

"Yes?" Mihawk had his elbows placed on his thighs and leaned his bearded chin on his folded hands.

Zoro sighed.

"You know - not that it’s my business - but I didn't have the best relationship with my mother. I do get that the relationship with one’s parents can sometimes be really complicated, depending on how much they fucked up, but the thing is..." Again, he shrugged. "If I had another chance to face my mother today and tell her about my life, I'd do it."

With a smile, Zoro took another sip.

“She'd probably be pretty disappointed in me. Pirate hunter, pirate, wanted criminal. Not particularly honorable." In his mind, he raised his bottle to her. "On the other hand, I am a damn good swordsman, a warrior, and have my own code of honor and pride. So who knows what she would say."

-Mihawk-

He watched Roronoa speak of his mother. It sounded very different from when Mihawk thought of his father. The younger one seemed to have deep respect for her, although she had left him behind as a child.

"Your mother sounds like an impressive person," Mihawk muttered, and saw Roronoa turn to him. "How was she?"

With a wry grin, the younger took another sip of his drink. "To be honest, sometimes you remind me of her."

"Excuse me?"

Now the other laughed slightly. "Oh yes, the same arrogance, a bit too vain, a bit too conceited. Pretty snobbish and entitled."

Mihawk lost his grin. How was the other able to use the depiction of his dead mother to insult him?

"But she was also very confident, proud, and a person of honor."

It was unusual to hear Roronoa speak like that, deep respect resounded in his voice and yet he was serious and rational. It reminded Mihawk a little of how Roronoa spoke of his captain, another relationship Mihawk could barely comprehend, another person who was, contrary to all logic, important to Roronoa.

Mihawk leaned forward.

"Tell me more about your mother, about your childhood."

Roronoa shrugged his shoulders. "There's not much to tell. I grew up in a temple, no idea who my father was. The monks educated me. They could understand my mother but couldn't speak her language. They taught me how to read and write, at least the very basics. When I was five-ish, my mother and I left."

Unimpressed, Roronoa emptied the bottle in his hand at once.

"Why?" Mihawk asked. It was rare that Roronoa was as talkative as he was today, and he wanted to take advantage of that. For one thing, Mihawk was simply curious to learn more about the past of his little frog; he had many questions only Roronoa could answer. Who had his mother been? Why had she been able to speak this dead language? How did she die and what had happened to Roronoa afterwards?

Mihawk wanted to understand, he wanted to know, but although Roronoa didn't necessarily kept his childhood a secret, he usually didn’t share his memories and thoughts freely.

On the other hand, Mihawk was grateful to forget the last hours, at least for the moment. At least for the next few minutes, he could ignore this catastrophic day; although he was, of course, aware that he would have to deal with it sooner or later.

Roronoa seemed to brood for a moment, playing with the empty bottle on the table, his eyes focused on the small kitchen window. In profile, he looked quite thoughtful. 

"I have no idea why," Roronoa muttered.

"One morning we just left. I never asked why." He smiled slightly. "It was my mother's decision and I decided to go with her."

"And where did you go then? What happened?"

Now the younger one looked over to him.

"You ask quite a lot," he said with his eyebrow raised.

"I'm just interested," Mihawk replied innocently, fishing for some nuts again.

"Yeah, sure." The youngster shook his head, but then he grabbed one of the old rice balls and continued between two bites: “It's not an exciting story, to be honest. We lived in a small hut on the edge of a small village on some small island somewhere in the East Blue. We didn't really have any money and my mother was too proud to look to work. She always said that ‘ _the effort of a Roronoa cannot be measured in terms money’_ and that it was degrading to sell the own body for a few metal coins."

Mihawk could already understand where Roronoa had his strong will from. "Well, it is understandable that an honorable woman would not just sell her..."

"It wasn't about things like that," the other interrupted him roughly, rolling his eyes. “My mother had a lot of skills, all our clothes she had sewn herself and although I've never seen her in action, I'm pretty sure she could fight well. She was the one who taught me everything about self-defense and offense I knew before meeting Master Koshiro. She may not have been a master of the sword, but I do think she was a warrior. She had this typical posture and feline reflexes, yet she behaved more like arrogant nobility, kind of like you."

Curiously, Mihawk watched the other and ignored the small side-blow. Yes, he would have loved to meet Mother Roronoa.

Meanwhile, the other seemed have warmed up and spoke freely: "In the beginning, the people of the village tried to help us, but my mother refused any assistance and also refused to learn their language. She often said ' _a Roronoa does not ask for alms'_ or things like _‘if those people want to talk to me, why should I have to learn their language?'_ "

Mihawk laughed quietly. That really sounded almost arrogant and yes, also a bit like him.

"But we needed money to survive, so I joined the village's woodcutters quite early, I probably wasn't much help at the beginning and yet they gave me a salary of 500 Berry every week."

The younger one sounded grateful and proud, but Mihawk suddenly felt humble. A little boy who had to work hard because his mother was too proud for it, because _the effort of a Roronoa cannot be measured in terms money._ But even more, he was shocked by the miserable salary the other was praising, how could two people with 500 Berry a week survive? Especially considering that something simple as the daily newspaper had already cost 80 Berry around 15 years ago. Just now Mihawk realized for the first time what Roronoa had already told him many times; they really came from completely different worlds.

"My mother didn’t approve me working, but it had been my decision."

"It seemed as it was very important for your mother to enforce your own will," he remarked, deciding to ignore the stale aftertaste.

"Oh yes," the younger one agreed. "She always told me that only I was responsible for my life and that I should take every decision seriously and no matter what, she always raised her index finger and _said, ‘Do not regret, Ron, a Roronoa never regrets one’s_ _decision_ ’."

"Ron?" Mihawk repeated. "She called you Ron?"

"Oh," Roronoa muttered, looking up. "Yes, she never called me by my name, except when others were in the room. Otherwise she always called me Ron. It was a strict rule that I could only call her Ni - that means mother - when we were among us, and even then, I always called her _Ro_ _Ni,_ which is a respectful form of address. As soon as other people were there, even with the monks, she was always only Roronoa Zakuro."

That, on the other hand, seemed strangely familiar to Mihawk. Smiling, he recalled how his own mother had scolded him if he had not shown her the necessary respect. After all, it had always been _Lady Mother_ and _Lord_ _Father,_ and since early childhood his parents had only called him _son_ , not once they had used his name. Except for his sister and few other people, he had always been the young Lord for everybody else.

"So, Ron means as much as son?" He asked, leaning even more forward to receive the bottle the younger one handed him. Roronoa thoughtfully rubbed his neck.

"Yes, kind of, probably meant son or child she by that, but actually I would translate Ron more with descendant or offspring, it depends on the context."

Mihawk leaned back and reached for a glass next to the sink. As he poured two finger widths, he examined the younger one, who met his gaze unimpressed.

"Where does your mother come from, Roronoa? What happened before the temple? The way you describe it, she must have been of high nobility."

Roronoa shrugged. "Good question; I don’t know. Except for the stories of Alciel’s heroes and Harukyuu, she didn't tell me much. She almost never spoke of my father either."

"And yet she seemed very proud of her ancestry. She seemed proud of the name Roronoa."

The other nodded slightly. "The name Roronoa was her explanation and reason for everything. ' _A Roronoa does not do such a_ thing, _a Roronoa does not need...'_ , it's pretty annoying though."

"So you do not share her view?"

Now Roronoa rolled his eyes.

“It's just a name. Just one word, something meaningless. It is not the words that matter, but the deeds. Yes, I have my pride, but not because my name is Roronoa."

Mihawk wondered just what scolding would have awaited him if he would have said something like this in the presence of his parents, even his sister had never said anything like this, and even though Mihawk did not care much for his legacy, he was proud to bear the name Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk.

"So, you got your pride from her and your sense of honor, but actually you do not know anything about your mother or your father or your background."

Again, his little frog shrugged. "That's just the way it is. She never called him by name when she spoke of him - which she almost never did - I believe maybe two or three times."

"Did you not ask? You must have been curious."

“Of course, but if she didn't want to answer, she didn't answer. She once said that he died before I was born and that was pretty much it. But she never spoke disrespectfully of him."

For a moment they both remained silent, both lost in thought.

"And how did she die?" It was not a question Mihawk asked lightly. He knew the pain of losing his own mother very well and yet he seemed to deal with it differently than Roronoa.

"She was stupid," Roronoa said coldly. "Because she didn't want to accept any help and my low wage was barely enough to survive, she always went to the forest to collect mushrooms and roots and stuff like that. In the beginning she also hunted, but that got forbidden because of game shortages or something soon after we moved there. She was a horrible cook and had no idea how things were prepared."

Now the youngster looked at the bottle in his hand again.

"When I was seven, I came home after work and she was just lying there, at the fire pit, she had cooked with aconite." Roronoa shrugged his shoulders. "I called the doctor even though she had been cold and stiff. He thought she could have died hours ago, probably within less than an hour."

Mihawk remained silent.

"I then left the village to become a swordsman."

"You did not stay?"

"For what reason? I had only been there because of my mother. I had already wanted to learn sword fighting from the monks, but she had been against it and I had bowed to her will. She thought a solid defense made sense, but she was against me becoming a warrior. She thought that this path would only mean disaster for me."

"Despite this, you became a swordsman."

Roronoa grinned, but his eyelids looked heavy, almost as if he were tired.

"Of course, after all, it's my life and only I decide my fate."

Now they were both calm, for minutes neither of them said a word; the old kitchen clock warned them that the early hours of the morning were already dawning, but none of them were leaving.

"Did you never think that you could be a descendant of Alciel? Maybe the last survivor?" His little frog regarded him from the corners of his eyes without responding. "The book by Hakuryuu's apprentice stated that Hakuryuu had instructed his disciples to wipe out all the citizens of Alciel, and the other kingdoms of this earth also hunted that people. Maybe that is why you do not know anything about your origins."

"So what?" With his head tilted to the side, the other turned to him. “It doesn't matter, does it? I don't care what blood flows through my veins or what name my ancestors had. It has nothing to do with me."

"I disagree, after all..."

"I don't care." Roronoa got up and stretched, flinching in-between and touching his side. Although he had just interrupted Mihawk rather rudely, he seemed relaxed and calm, obviously not looking for another dispute. "We are different, Mihawk. You grew up in this world. A world of names and titles, your ancestors settled the five islands and someone along the lines was a World Aristocrat or something, right?"

Mihawk had little time to agree to this sloppy summary of his origins, as the other continued: "But, you know, I don't care about all that. Whether titles or no titles, you can still be an asshole and my swords don't care what blood they are soaked with. The only title that interests me in any way is yours and I'll get it." The other waved to him briefly and turned to the door. "I've had a few shitty days and I'm going to go to sleep now. Tomorrow morning, we will train."

Mihawk smiled at the younger man's behavior.

"You are quite presumptuous, Roronoa. I am still the teacher and my decisions still apply."

Laughing loudly, the other waved off, but then held his damaged wrist with an annoyed sigh.

"Yeah, keep talking, old man."

Disapprovingly, Mihawk clicked his tongue. This wrist really did not look healthy, but the younger one would just make fun of his concern.

"Wait Roronoa, I want to tell you one more thought to go to bed with." Raising his eyebrows, Roronoa turned towards him. "Although you do not care what blood flows through your veins and whether you are a descendant of Alciel, I still wonder if that might explain your ability to absorb Haki. After all, the people of Alciel were seen as a dangerous warrior race for a reason, right?"

It took a moment, but then the otherwise serious eyes grew big.

"And I may be wrong, but maybe, just maybe, one of those books that only you can read contains a hint concerning your madness."

He could almost see the cogs rattling behind Roronoa's forehead before they finally clicked into place after several breaths.

"Maybe," Roronoa muttered, shrugging his shoulders, but Mihawk could see that he was not nearly dismissing it as something insignificant as he acted.

Roronoa wished him a good night and then left. Mihawk was also supposed to go to bed, he had not slept well the previous nights and today had demanded a lot from him. It felt like several weeks had moved into the country, not just a few hours. In the morning he had been looking forward to making a fool out of Nataku, but then the conversation had been so different than he had expected.

Naaku's words had hit a sore point, a point he did not want to think about. He had denied it, dismissing it as a ridiculous accusation. But he had not quite been able to get away from it. He had already noticed that the way his little frog could influence him was dangerous and he knew how important his sister had been to him. Maybe it was an obsession, maybe this parasite had actually been right.

It had not been a wise idea to drown his thoughts with alcohol, they had not been silenced by it. On the contrary, his confused thoughts had gradually agreed with the Marine, and had threatened him that his impulsiveness, his poor self-control, his raging anger would one day mean Roronoa's downfall.

Drunken, he had come to the conviction that Roronoa could not resist him at all, probably had tried over and over again, but in the end, he was too dependent on Mihawk. He had come to the conclusion that Roronoa was only with him, because he had no other choice, perhaps even so mentally limited that he could not see the danger Mihawk posed. He had almost hoped that Roronoa would see this if Mihawk would only become actually dangerous for him once. Ashamed, Mihawk looked at the empty glass in his hand. Rarely he had let himself go like this.

Nataku had been right. He always tried to act so rational and thoughtful. Seemed always calm and collected, yet he knew that it was all just a mask. A mask that he had shaped to perfection. During the last few years, he had not taken it off once, had not lost it once and then a few months ago this outrageous boy showed up and suddenly it got cracks.

For a long time Mihawk had not let himself be overcome by his desire to fight, his lust for blood, but this boy made his blood boil and Roronoa made him angry so easily, made him furious so easily. Without hesitation, Roronoa had come into his life, ripped his carefully perfected mask from his face and stared him down.

But the worst thing about it was, Roronoa was indifferent; he did not even do it with intent, it just happened to him by the way while he was constantly pursuing his own goal. Roronoa did not let himself be intimidated by him, allowed Mihawk not to have a say and certainly not command anything.

_You are not the one to decide about my death, and certainly not about my life. I make my own decisions, not you._

That was exactly what the other had told him, had simply taken him out of responsibility.

_You know, I'm strong and I still have an even stronger will._

Could it be that he underestimated Roronoa again?

Sighing, Mihawk rose and rubbed his face. It was true, he had repeatedly compared the youngster with his deceased sister. The same abnormal talent, the same naive righteousness, yes, they shared important traits.

But it would be presumptuous to ignore the fact that Roronoa was so different. He was not as innocent, as childishly naive as Sharak, not as good-natured and trusting as she had been, but also not as loud and cheerful, took life more seriously and at the same time did not worry about many things at all.

_I am old enough to choose the people in my life. You're really annoying, but I can deal with you most of the time._

Roronoa made his own decisions and did not regret them, that he had said himself. Perhaps it was time for Mihawk to break away from the idea that Roronoa and Sharak had something in common. Perhaps it was time for him to trust Roronoa and respect his decisions.

"What a fool you are," Mihawk scolded himself and left the kitchen. All this could have been avoided if he had not tried to make decisions for the youngster, had not tried to deprive him of responsibility.

Roronoa was right, in terms of his little frog it was irrelevant what had happened to Sharak at that time, that was in the past and it was simplistic of him to hold on to it.

Scratching his head, he strode through the empty corridors. But Roronoa was a strange fellow, he had to admit that. The more he got to know him, the less he understood him. But maybe that was not necessary.

Arriving in his room, Mihawk swept the empty bottle from his bed, ignoring the fact that it smashed on the cold stone tiles before he simply let himself fall into the soft sheets. He knew he was used to a lot of alcohol, but not as much as he had been in his youth, and he knew his body would take revenge in a few hours, even if the familiar headache had not yet pestered him, it would soon.

While he was thinking about it, he fell asleep.

The early morning confirmed his fears.

The sun was still close to the horizon as Mihawk rolled out of the soft sheets and his head pondered ominously. Grinning, he recalled that he wanted to continue training with Roronoa today, but he was not even sure he would make it to the bathroom without an accident. So much for being the oh so mighty Shichibukai Hawk Eyes.

It took him a long time to get ready, on the way to the bathroom he had stepped into some shards several times and almost slipped on a bottle, it was pathetic.

After the third cut, he had decided not to trim his beard as neatly today. He disliked it, but he clearly needed coffee and something against this headache before he could deal with such delicate things. He did not even want to think about Roronoa and his training. Had he drunken so much more than he had on Sasaki a few months ago?

No, not really, he had also been much sharper minded than then, had not been nearly as unpredictable last night as he had been that evening. But this may also have been because this time he had drunk mainly one type of alcohol. With a smile, he wondered if Roronoa was also suffering from the consequences of last night.

Clumsily he stomped along the plain corridors. In the entrance area, as almost every morning, a tray of covered breakfast, newspaper, and coffee was waiting for him.

Oh, he had almost forgotten the ghost girl, she had also tried to visit him in his room the previous day, but he had made it quite clear to her that her presence had been the last thing he had been willing to bear, and that if she cherished her life at all, she would not dare to bother him. He had always been so good with words.

Arriving in the fireplace room, Mihawk took the pills off the tray and gulped them down with enough coffee. He then strolled over to the sofa and decided to doze off for another half an hour until the pills would show effect.

But his plan failed, because only after a few minutes the quiet creaking of the door woke him up. Rolling his cloesed eyes, he turned to the side. Roronoa had probably just returned from his morning run. Incredibly, even after staying up most of last night's and probably having a few bruised rips, this guy was disciplined enough to stick to his training schedule. Mihawk himself would not even have stood up if he did not have to worry about what the younger one would do again.

Half-asleep, he wondered in what form Roronoa had been training. Mihawk had advised him not to neglect Lady Loreen too much. Already by now, there was a considerable difference in power between the two forms, and if Roronoa was not careful, it would grow. It would be fatal if one day his little frog would face an opponent and then had to turn into its weaker form.

"So determined the Shichibukai Hawk Eyes trains his honorable Lady Loreen."

He jumped up.

Right in front of his sofa, no one else squatted but Rear... no Vice Admiral Cho Jiroushin, a mischievous grin on his cheerful face, a Marine cap on his blonde curls.

"Geez, you look kinda horrible, Hawky," his best friend laughed.

"Jirou?" Mihawk said bewildered and ruffled through his hair in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The much more important question was, why had he not noticed the other?

His headaches had meanwhile scaled down to a moderate level, but he could hardly believe that he had not noticed how someone could approach him up to a few centimeters without him getting alert at all.

"Oh my God, don't look so shocked." The blond laughed again. "You were the one who invited me."

For a second Mihawk thought about how something like this could have happened to him, but then the joy prevailed that his best friend and former Vice had really come by to visit. It was an unexpected but not unpleasant surprise.

"Jirou. It is nice to see you. I have not heard from you in a long time. Since our conversation four months ago, it seemed impossible to reach you."

Now the other rubbed his neck in embarrassment as they strolled over to the dining table.

"Well, I'm sorry, but with my new position and all the preparations for the child, I had hardly any time to breathe."

Mihawk grabbed another cup from the tea cart and offered his friend some coffee.

"Lirin lets you travel just like that? Is it not almost time?"

Synchronously, they sat down and reached for a fork. Normally Mihawk would not allow anyone to eat from his plate, especially not his breakfast, but well, it was Jiroushin.

The Marine sighed deeply.

"Honestly, it was her idea. She is doing well, and she has a little more than two months left and thought it would be good for me to do something else before my paternal duties would catch up with me."

For a moment, Mihawk did not respond.

"You have a smart wife, Jirou," he said simply, concentrating on his scrambled eggs. Of course, he had immediately seen through the other's excuse, talking about no time to breathe. Mihawk knew exactly why the other had avoided him for months. It was...

"Hey, Mihawk, where the hell are you? We said that we..." Like right on the damn cue, Roronoa entered the fireplace room.

The next second stretched into infinite as first surprise and then horror glided over Roronoa's cold face, at the same time Mihawk noted from the corner of his eye how Jiroushin dropped his fork. His own gaze raced through the room. Mihawk found what he was looking for.

"Roronoa Zoro!"

Then Vice Admiral Cho Jiroushin attacked.


	39. Chapter 35 - Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning (yes, I know I'm way earlier than usually, but wanted to get this out, before my day gets started^^')
> 
> I guess nobody is surprised by the title of this chapter after the las cliffhanger (sorry for that... not really), so here we go, have fun, and see you friday^^

Chapter 35 - Conflict

-Zoro-

"Roronoa Zoro!"

_Holy shit!_

Before Zoro could even finish this thought, steel clashed against steel.

The impact’s wind gust cut his cheek. As touched by finest blades, several thin lines of fabric and skin ripped open on shoulder and upper arm. Barely an inch before Zoro stood Mihawk, a simple sword drawn and coated. His blade was crossed with the usual sword that each Marine carried.

"Get out of my way, Mihawk!"

Opposite the Shichibukai stood none other than Cho Jiroushin, Vice Admiral of the Marines and Mihawk's closest friend. Zoro could hardly see anything over the older man's tall shoulder, but the pure hatred that dripped from each syllable of the blond reached him just fine.

"My apologies, Jiroushin, I cannot just do that." The Shichibukai sounded as calm as ever.

Only now did Zoro realize that Mihawk had taken one of the swords that hung over the fireplace for decoration. How fast did he have to still be able to block his childhood friend's attack in time? 

"I am very reluctant to repeat myself, Shichibukai Hawk Eyes." Zoro couldn't remember hearing the mostly good-humored Jiroushin speak so seriously. "Step aside!"

Zoro had been inattentive, he had slept very little and had been mentally preparing for today's training. The last months he and the Shichibukai had never been disturbed on Kuraigana by uninvited guests, not even by Eizen; obviously Zoro had become a little too used to it.

"No." Mihawk still sounded anything but tense, even though he had stopped his best friend's attack. Both Zoro and Mihawk had expected the day to come at some point; the day Jiroushin would find out who Lady Loreen really was. Zoro, however, had not expected it to happen like this.

He had hardly foreseen the soldier's sword-stroke, had hardly had the time to dodge. If Mihawk hadn't put himself in between, Zoro would most likely be dead by now, or at least quite bloody. And Mihawk actually claimed that Zoro should soon be equal to the blond? Sure.

"Mihawk," Zoro said. He did not want the two to oppose each other because of him. "Step... "

"Stay out of this, Roronoa!"

Did the other actually just dare to shut him up? While this whole fucking matter was about him?!

“Jiroushin”, Mihawk took the floor again, "I asked you back then that my words may reach you when the day would come."

What was the other talking about?

"So please, put your sword aside and let us talk."

"What's the point?" The soldier replied, much cooler than Zoro was used to. "Back then it was about Loreen, Mihawk. You will not stop me from holding the G-6’s destroyer to account."

The Shichibukai laughed quietly and shook his head slightly.

"Oh no, I cannot let that happen, Jiroushin."

Zoro felt the blood gliding down his cheek and dripping on his shirt, but much more impressed him the tingling on his skin that was caused by the men in front of him, so this was how strong they truly were.

"Stop playing your games!" The Vice Admiral growled bitterly. “This isn't about your weird likings. He may be your protégé, but I can't let him get away with it. One last time: step aside!"

"One last time," the Shichibukai replied just as earnestly, "if you want Roronoa, you have to pass me first and believe me, you will lose this fight."

As if to underline his words, Mihawk slightly changed the grip on his sword so that the back of his blade now withstood Jiroushin's edge. A clear sign that the best swordfighter in the world was ready to fight.

"If you don't give me a choice, I'll give in to that demand."

"That's enough now!" Zoro finally decided to go in between before it would really get nasty.

"Roronoa, step back, this has nothing to do with..."

"Stop it," he interrupted Mihawk, "this is all about me and I've told you before that I won't allow you idiots risking your friendship because of me."

"Wait, what?"

Zoro quickly looked over to the blond, who observed him suspiciously.

"Loreen once said something just like that to me," he muttered.

"How slow on the uptake are you, Jiroushin?" Mihawk sighed, lowering his weapon. "We cannot make it even more obvious for you."

For a moment the soldier looked back and forth between Zoro and Mihawk, and then Jiroushin stared at Zoro’s chest, at the small gold chain, half-covered by his shirt, that the Shichibukai had given him.

The green eyes of the Vice Admiral grew large.

"Impossible," he whispered, "that's impossible."

Now they were all quiet. Zoro knew that Jiroushin could attack him again at any time, and he still doubted that he could react quickly enough, but he would not let himself be protected by the Shichibukai again.

"You can’t be serious." With half a laugh, Jiroushin shook his head and looked at Mihawk accusingly. "You must take me for a fool."

"Well, at least you act foolish enough to be one."

Roronoa rolled his eyes. The Shichibukai really didn't know how to defuse a conflict, not that he was the one to talk.

"So, you want to tell me that this... this monster..." The soldier nodded over to Zoro but did not look at him. "and Lady Loreen are one and the same person?"

"Does this seem so much less likely than Roronoa Zoro surviving the demise of the G-6 unharmed?"

Now the serious eyes flashed over to Zoro again.

Once again, no one said a single word.

Suddenly the door opened behind Zoro and Perona stuck her head in. All swordsmen looked at her, her eyes grew large, and she quickly closed the door again and disappeared.

"Impossible," the Shichibukai grumbled annoyed. "So rude."

"You're not much better," the soldier muttered equally displeased, and put his sword away. Clearly, the tension was broken.

"Tze, at least I know how to behave," Mihawk replied, bringing his weapon back to its place.

"Then at least make use of this knowledge from time to time."

Zoro watched the other two, apparently, he was the only one for whom the fight was not over, and the Shichibukai noticed it, as he nodded over to him and folded his arms.

"It is alright Roronoa. You can relax."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Jiroushin disagreed, dropping on a chair at the dining table, contrary to his words. He reluctantly pulled over a half-empty coffee cup. His otherwise cheerful eyes were firmly stuck on Zoro, his otherwise always grinning mouth pressed together to a narrow line.

"Oh please," Mihawk said again, walking past the soldier. At the table, he pulled the daily newspaper from the breakfast tray before strolling over to his favorite chair. With his legs crossed, he opened the newspaper as if the conflict had already passed. "Now you are still angry and probably upset, but once everything is settled, you will soon grin as stupidly as always."

The Vice Admiral snorted disapprovingly. "You are quite calm for this situation here, Mihawk."

"Oh no, you misinterpret, Jiroushin, I am more furious than words can express. It is one thing for Roronoa to make reckless, thoughtless mistakes..."

"Hey," Zoro grumbled, but the other completely ignored him.

"... but that I do not perceive when a Vice Admiral comes ashore, tze. There can be no excuse for that." Said Vice Admiral wanted to reply, but suddenly Mihawk looked over the newspaper at Zoro rather indignantly. "And yet, Roronoa, that does not justify the fact that you came in so carelessly. You should have noticed Jiroushin and not just burst inside."

"Says the one who slept deeply when I stood right in front of him," Jiroushin muttered.

Zoro didn't like the situation at all. A few seconds ago, both men had been ready to fight and now they were behaving almost as if this moment had never happened. But then Zoro realized it, grasped it so suddenly and clearly that he could hardly stop the wave of wistfulness sweeping over him. These two idiots behaved just like Luffy and he would.

He had traveled with his captain for half a year, but Zoro had known pretty quickly, within a few days, if he was honest - even if he didn't want to admit it at that time - how much he was willing to give for his captain. More than half a year ago, he had lastly sacrificed himself for his crew, and shortly afterwards his crew had been destroyed. Today to the day a quarter of the time they all had to become stronger had passed. Only a quarter and yet Zoro had spent as much time on Kuraigana as by Luffy's side.

"Roronoa, are you even listening to me?!"

Surprised, Zoro looked up. He had not even noticed that he had been distracted in this dangerous situation.

"Where are you with your thoughts?" His teacher immediately scolded.

But Zoro turned to the Vice Admiral, who was still sitting at the kitchen table, with the empty coffee cup in his hands.

"You seem to take all this very calmly, Cho Jiroushin."

For a long time, these otherwise joyful eyes looked at him seriously. From the fireplace Zoro could hear paper rustling, the Shichibukai had probably decided to watch this conversation only from a distance or that his newspaper was simply more important to him.

Jiroushin laughed half-heartedly and shook his head.

"On the contrary," he muttered, looking over to Zoro again. "Do you know you were one of the first people I would have liked to have killed myself?"

This confession did not surprise Zoro as much as it perhaps should.

"For us Marines, it is natural to put our lives at risk every day and every fight, certainly every war can cause losses." Then Jiroushin bent over the table and reached for the coffee pot. “But what you did wasn't a fight, it wasn't a fair dispute. Like vermin, you smoked out my comrades in their base. The capable warriors, the naive beginners, the veterans coming to rest, all at the same time. But it was not only the soldiers who had sworn their lives to justice who lived on this base, but also doctors, cleaning and kitchen staff, shipyard staff and technicians. Not only for a soldier the base is a second home, for some even the only one, and you have destroyed all this, all these lives and the lives of family members, of friends."

The blond snorted.

"And for what? For a handful of criminals and pirates." Shaking his head, Jiroushin looked over to the Shichibukai. "Forgive me that I do not welcome your oh so admired miracle boy as warmly as you obviously can."

The soldier sounded so exhausted that not even sarcasm swept along in his voice.

Zoro accepted those words. It wasn't the first time he heard the accusation, and it wouldn't be the last. He knew what he had done, he had been aware of the extent. Zoro had no excuse, did not want to, and could not justify himself. Yes, he had killed countless innocent people just to save his friends and of all these people he had been the one given a second chance, by no more than a strange coincidence he was alive.

This injustice made even him sometimes thoughtful, and he would never forget what he had done and was still willing to do. But the world was not a just place, and Zoro would do what he had to do to save his friends from this injustice.

"Now you are here, miraculously alive, and my best friend asks me not only to spare your life, but to even spare you. To commit treason by concealing your survival from my superiors and as if that weren't enough, you even claim that you and Lady Loreen - the lovable, innocent, sweet Lady Loreen - are one and the same person."

Now Jiroushin leaned back, shaking his head, hands still on his already half-empty cup.

"Did you know it, Mihawk? When you asked me for information about the straw hats? When you asked me to train Loreen? When I fought with her? Danced on the ball?"

"Yes, Jiroushin, I lied to you from the very beginning."

The Vice Admiral did not respond but took a deep sip. Jiroushin looked older than usual. His face so unusually serious, so unusually hard, and full of grief. His gaze on the cup between his fingers, he laughed quietly.

"How many times have I spoken to Lirin about worrying about you, Mihawk, because you're like a madman watching some brat from the East Blue, and when I learned of the G-6 and Roronoa Zoro's death, my first thought wasn't how horrible it was, how many comrades and friends I had lost, what a terrible deed it had been. No, my first concern was that maybe you would do something really stupid." 

Surprised by this statement, Zoro lowered his gaze, feeling his cheeks heat up. He had heard many times that Mihawk's interest in him had been greater after their encounter in the East Blue than he had ever thought and that the other had ever admitted.

"You are exaggerating," the Shichibukai grumbled from his armchair. "I was upset, but..."

" _Upset_ doesn’t even begin to describe it, you were beside yourself. But then, out of nowhere, this petite, fragile Lady Loreen appeared, and you were like a different person. I have rarely seen you so happy and although I had my doubts, my questions, I decided to ignore all of this to not stand in the way of your happiness. Now, in hindsight, I really was naive. I should have seen from the beginning that there was something wrong about the whole situation."

Mihawk clicked slightly with his tongue and got up.

"You are not at fault, Jiroushin. People tend not to consider the impossible and I wanted to make sure you would not attack Roronoa in his female form. He was so fragile. Even now..." He didn't finish the sentence and just pointed to Zoro.

"Could you stop it?" Zoro grumbled rather angrily, rubbing the blood off his cheek. "Fragile? As if. Besides, who threw me through the room just yesterday?"

He could see that the memory of the previous evening alone was enough to put the Shichibukai in his place. Then he noticed the eyes of the Vice Admiral again.

"And you want to be Lady Loreen? I just don't want to believe that. You are like day and night."

Zoro shrugged. "Don't need to tell me, believe me..."

"I gave you my blessing!" Suddenly the blond jumped up and rushed three steps in Mihawk’s direction; rattling fell his chair to the ground.

"What?" Zoro had no idea what the soldier meant by that, but by means of Mihawk’s rosy cheeks he suspected that it could not mean anything good, while the soldier continued to stammer.

"Wait, wait, wait! He, Hawky? He?! I mean, I didn't want to say anything about the age difference with Loreen because you were happy and you know I don't interfere in things like that, but..."

"Jiroushin!", Mihawk coolly interrupted the blond. "Roronoa and I are not in a romantic relationship."

"What?! Where does this shit suddenly come from?!” Zoro stared at the other two men in front of him. 

"Who would come up with the brain-cracking idea that ..." He could hardly continue that thought. Mihawk was his teacher, his greatest rival, maybe also a friend, well, they were friends and maybe because of their views in swordfighting they had a level of understanding each other that not many had, but... something like that?

The Shichibukai looked at him condescendingly.

"Of course, from the outside, this idea is not that absurd, Roronoa. The press has very quickly spread and decorated the intimate relationship between Hawk Eyes and Lady Loreen; we tried ourselves to keep the gap between truth and impression as wide as possible."

"Yes, but love? Romance? Who believes in such a nonsense?"

To his astonishment, Zoro was now stared at by both men. Mihawk's expression was hard to read, between amused, annoyed, and indifferent. The Vice Admiral looked rather confused and also slightly offended.

"You know that I'm expecting a child with the love of my life, right?"

Apologetically, Zoro raised both hands. "Sorry, but at what second did I somehow indicate that there was something going on with this snobbish old bastard of a teacher?"

“Roronoa!”

"When did you not?!" Replied the Vice Admiral, also ignoring Mihawk. "The first time we met, you wore one of Hawky's shirts..."

"That was my shirt. Besides, we didn't meet there for the first time."

For a moment, Jiroushin looked at him in disbelief, obviously thrown off by the sudden change of topic.

"Not?"

"No. Shelltown, Marine base, just over a year ago," Zoro grumbled, trying to steer the issue in a different direction.

"Oh, I remember. Captain Morgan; there was this young man tied to a wooden cross. He had apparently attacked Morgan's son and was therefore to be executed. That was you?"

Zoro couldn't prevent a quiet grin, the story back then had happened a little differently, but it didn't surprise him in the least that this idiot with the axe had not planned to let him go after the 30 days from the beginning. Luckily, Luffy had shown up.

"And even then, you didn't die, did you?"

Now Zoro smiled slightly at these almost accusatory words.

"Just didn’t stick with me."

"Well, could we end this vexed issue?" Mihawk re-entered, apparently offended that they had ignored him. "It is all cleared up now, correct? Roronoa is Lady Loreen, no one should know about it. You have spoken about all that bothered you and everyone is satisfied. Jirou, could we get to the point now? As far as Roronoa's training is concerned, I thought that we..."

"Stop!" The other interrupted Mihawk with his flat hand pressed against the Shichibukai’s face. "You’re not serious now, are you?"

Obviously not aware of any guilt, Mihawk tilted his head and backed off from the hand of the other.

"You let me steal classified files, lie to me for months, use me without my knowledge to train a criminal, and ask me not to hand him over to the Marine, and think you can just put me back into his training now?"

For a breath it was quiet.

"Well, yes." Mihawk nodded.

"Are you mad?! Why should I do this?!"

"Because I ask you to, and you would be a great help to me. Together with you, some points in Roronoa's training plan would be much easier to confront.”

“Noooohoho!” Huffing, the blond turned around and stalked through the room, his arms folded. "I'm not going to help you make training easier for one of my enemies and an enemy of the Marines! How can you believe I would do something like this?!"

"I am really surprised how upset you are today, Jiroushin. I am not used to that."

"Could you stay serious for a second, Hawky? Why are you training him in the first place?" Now the Marine pointed at Zoro. "This guy is also your enemy. After all, he wants to defeat you, rob you of your title, or not? So..."

"Roronoa, please give Jiroushin and me a few minutes." It didn't even seem as if the Shichibukai was interrupting the other. He had already made a decision. "You should have breakfast and then, shall we say, we meet in 15 minutes in the entrance hall, alright?"

"Hawky! Don't just ignore me!"

Zoro recognized the way the other spoke to him. There was no discussion, no objection. Although he thought the situation was anything but settled, he nodded swiftly and turned to leave.

"Another question, Roronoa."

Zoro stopped at the door with a sigh, his teacher could be really annoying.

"What form were you running in this morning?"

Surprised, he looked at Mihawk briefly before shaking his head.

"We had agreed on it, not in this one."  
  


-Mihawk-

Smiling, he watched Roronoa leave, only then he turned to his childhood friend, who looked at him clearly too calmly.

"You are serious, aren’t you? You really want to persuade me to help you turn this monster into an invincible enemy?"

Now Mihawk could hardly prevent a nasty grin.

"Exactly."

Shaking his head, Jiroushin leaned against the table.

"Why? Are the enemies that both you and the Marines have not enough for you yet? Wasn't the war bad enough?"

"Calm down, Jirou. It's..."

"I'm not going to calm down," the blond replied, without even getting loud. It was this silent rage that signaled Mihawk that his friend was really serious. "How can you still want to protect this brat after everything he has done? He's a monster.”

"Like me?" Mihawk asked soberly and could see his friend's eyes widening.

"What, no, you’re different than..."

"Do you know how many people I have killed, Jiroushin?" For a moment, his friend probably thought he was asking a rhetorical question, but since Mihawk did not continue to speak, Jiroushin shrugged. "Do you know how many people have died in this war? For the life of a criminal?"

"What is your point, Hawky?" The Vice Admiral frowned.

"If you convict Roronoa for his actions, I wonder how you can serve the Marines so faithfully, that is all."

"Are you nuts? You compare an unavoidable war of soldiers against a union of countless pirates with an assassination by one individual even with civilian casualties? Are you crazy?!”

"You are probably right. It is certainly not fair to compare a senseless demonstration of power by the World Government - which has given up its duty of care towards its employees only to be able to execute a single pirate - to a single man who was willing to put the life of his comrades above everything else."

Jiroushin snorted: "You have always been gifted to express facts in the way that suits you. Do you actually want to tell me that you approve what this pirate has done?"

Now Mihawk smiled again.

"I mean, I envy both Roronoa’s and his captain’s will."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Mihawk turned away and looked at the empty fire pit.

"Do you not find it almost foolish; one destroys an entire Marine base just to save his friends, the other breaks into the safest prison of the World Government, only to save a friend, successfully breaks out again and then also takes part in a war to which he could easily have fallen victim?"

"Insane is probably the right term for these monsters, these madmen."

Once again, Mihawk looked at his childhood friend and smiled weakly.

"I wish I was more like these two madmen."

“What?”

"Then I might have chosen a different path back then."

Surprised, Jiroushin opened his mouth without saying anything.

"If my will had been a little bit stronger back then; if I had been willing back then to sacrifice as much as Roronoa or his captain would, I think things would have turned out different." Shaking his head, he waved off when the other still did not answer.

"You are right to condemn his actions, ethically it is probably quite critical, but we both know that I have never bothered about anything like this. Yet Roronoa has his principles and priorities, and he only follows those, regardless of any consequences, and that is indeed a strength that I very much envy." Mihawk shrugged. "Whether you kill one person or hundreds, a murderer is a murderer, the real question is whether you stay true to your own sense of honor."

They both remained silent for a few seconds before Jiroushin finally replied: "As always, you have your own logic with which you look at the world, Mihawk. I don't agree with your words and I don't understand why you want to help this brat? What fascinates you so much about him that you distort the truth so much?"

Slowly, Mihawk turned to his former Vice. 

"Oh Jiroushin, is it really me who twists the truth or the World Government? Believe me, whether we like it or not, a new age will soon dawn, and I have the certain feeling that the Straw Hat and its crew will not be unremarkably involved. However, this has nothing to do with my interest in Roronoa." 

"Not?" Jiroushin asked, his arms folded, apparently far from satisfied with the course of the conversation.

"Let me make you an offer, Jiroushin, help me with Roronoa's training today and if you...", Mihawk directly interrupted his friend's growing objection, "... at the end of the day, are not as surprised and fascinated by Roronoa's talent as I am, I'm not going to stand in your way."

“What?”

Mihawk nodded: "Correct, you can hold Roronoa accountable, however you like it, and I will not interfere."

Disbelieving, the Vice Admiral inspected him.

"You're not someone who would make such reckless bets with such a high stake, this is a set-up," Jiroushin speculated softly.

"I only offering a way to resolve this conflict fairly. You do not have to go along with it."

"And what would be my stake if you were to convince me?" The soldier asked with noticeable distrust.

"You will not betray Roronoa, not to the Marines, to the World Government, to anyone, not even to Lirin, and you will also assist me within your possibilities with Roronoa's training. Your experience and skills would be very important to me."

The other laughed loudly.

"You're mad!"

"Maybe, but believe me, after today you will want to know how much better Roronoa can still get."

They looked at each other.

"You're pretty sure you're going to win. He may be a miracle boy, but in the end, he too is just a simple man, Hawky. I've taught hundreds, do you really think he's the one who can still surprise me?"

Mihawk smiled.

"If you look at it like that, you can make this bet without any risk or are you afraid?"

"Of course not."

They shook hands and Mihawk could not prevent a quiet laugh.

"You have already lost, Jiroushin."

With these words, he turned to the door.

"What makes you so sure, Hawky?"

Over his shoulder, he grinned at the other.

"Believe me, my friend, I have never seen anything like Roronoa."


	40. Chapter 36 - Scales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> hope you're getting ready for a great weekend ;-)   
> And I hope you guys are aware by now how much I enjoy having Jiroushin around, because guess what, he's still there (probably regretting some choices he made in life) ;-P
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words, it makes me really happy to know that there are people out there reading this story and following the adventures of our two favorite idiots.
> 
> See you monday^^

Chapter 36 - Scale

-Zoro-

If he was honest, it didn't really surprise him that, in addition to the Shichibukai, also Jiroushin awaited him in the entrance hall,.

But something about the two was weird. Mihawk grinned smugly as if he had just won an extremely witty word duel. Jiroushin, on the other hand, seemed unusually serious and stared at Zoro both suspiciously and contemptuously. It was almost as if the two had swapped their bodies, they just seemed so untypical and opposite to their usual selves.

"Are you ready, Roronoa? Today, Jiroushin will help us with your training."

Zoro just nodded and followed his teacher. He didn't trust the situation at all. Something was going on here. 

But he had a very different problem. This was going to be his and Mihawk’s first training session since the had placed Zoro in front of a choice. Zoro knew that he could only master the Busoshoku Haki if he trained it, and that meant that sooner or later he would probably lose control again.

The way Mihawk behaved, Zoro suspected sooner rather than later, and he didn't like that at all. Especially not now, with Jiroushin being there as well. But Zoro said nothing, instead followed Mihawk silently to the ruins where they used to train.

The Marine at Mihawk's side had his arms folded and looked anything but happy, Zoro decided to ignore that. He didn't care what they had discussed, but he really would have preferred to not drag Jiroushin into the matter. In contrast to the Shichibukai, who seemed delighted with the latest developments.

"Well," Mihawk said, leaning against an overturned pillar, "as we all know, Roronoa learns the quickest through direct confrontation, so I think it makes the most sense if we continue exactly where we left off last time. Only this time Jiroushin will be your opponent."

Zoro nodded only as the blond looked around.

"And at what point are we?" Jiroushin muttered dissatisfied, bending down for a broken bamboo stick. "Hardening?"

Mihawk nodded: "Quite right. Roronoa is not ready yet to harden weapons. But his armor is becoming more and more even. You will enjoy it, Jirou."

Jiroushin just murmured something under his breath and strapped off his sword. "And all this nonsense just because you don't want to fight this bastard yourself."

Zoro knew perfectly well that he was the bastard, but he could live with that. So, he reached for one of the bamboo sticks from the big as ever pile and went into a fighting position.

Shaking his head, Jiroushin did the same.

"I still can't believe it," he grumbled as he confronted Zoro. "That's why you behaved so odd those many times... that's why you were so good."

Grinning, Zoro shrugged and hardened his _weapon._

"I have no idea what you mean," he replied, grabbing the bamboo harder, "but don't think I'm as weak as Loreen."

Somehow it was liberating to finally say it out loud in front of the blond.

"One more moment." Mihawk came over to Zoro, now again a cool, rational expression in his eyes. He leaned down to him and spoke so softly that Jiroushin apparently shouldn't hear it. "Since your control about whether you absorb foreign Haki or not is still not steady, this will not be our main focus for the moment. First of all, just make sure that you harden the stick evenly, understood?"

Zoro nodded, still keeping an eye on the Marine, who looked at him coolly again.

"And there is no need to worry, as long as you absorb his Haki, your own reserves should not sink into a dangerous area." Again, he nodded, but then he looked at the other as Mihawk touched his shoulder. "Jiroushin will certainly not try to kill you, but he will not hold back as he did on Sasaki. Concentrate!"

"Obviously."

"Can we get at it?" The Vice Admiral interrupted. "How long do you want to keep flirting?"

Apologetically lifting both hands, the Shichibukai went back to his pillar and Zoro faced the soldier. A tingle crawled over his skin, which had nothing to do with Haki. For the last few months Mihawk had always tried to actually fight with Zoro, so his last real fight had been a long time ago. It didn't matter that he was just holding a bamboo in his hands, that the other was superior to him, that Mihawk would prevent any kind of bloody confrontation.

All that mattered was his opponent in front of him and Zoro could see exactly how Jiroushin was watching him. His first real fight against the peaceful warrior, fifth best swordsman in the world. For a second, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, felt this familiar calmness, and then Zoro attacked.

Mihawk should be right; Jiroushin apparently was not trying to kill him just bluntly, but he probably had no objection to a moderate concussion.

Pretty quickly, Zoro noted three things.

First, he couldn't move his swollen left wrist the way he wanted without it gnawing at his concentration, which was why he led the staff with his right hand. Second, he noticed the sharp eyes of his teacher, and Zoro was not sure who the Shichibukai was watching. Didn't Mihawk trust that Jiroushin would hold back in the end?

But both were unimportant.

Because what Zoro noticed the quickest was that he was good. Not Jiroushin - he had assumed that from the beginning - no, Zoro's last real life-or-death fight, victory or defeat, had been months ago, and to see his own performance in relation to the best swordsman in the world had apparently clouded his self-assessment.

No, Zoro noticed how good he had become.

Of course, he could not compare today's confrontation with the last time he had fought Jiroushin. At that time, he had been Loreen and Jiroushin hadn't even given half of what he could, but most of all it had been six months ago and Zoro just wasn't the same as before.

Now he knew what the Shichibukai meant.

Still, that didn't mean the game was easy. It could be that Zoro was not as inferior to the Marine as he had thought, but on one hand they were fighting with damn bamboo sticks – and only one of them at a time – and on the other hand, Jiroushin had years ahead of him in using Haki application. 

But he didn't really care. Zoro had fun.

Mihawk was right, as long as he absorbed some of the other's Haki on every impact, he wouldn't run the risk of going crazy, he could just surrender to the fight and for the first time in a long, long time he could enjoy what he was doing.

Hours passed like mere seconds and Zoro just didn't get tired, even though he faced a powerful opponent. Every time their stick clashed against each other he could feel some cold slipping through his fingertips; he imagined it felt different from the Shichibukai’s Haki, but he could just as well be wrong.

Over time, he became more and more secure; after breaking several pipes in a row at the beginning, the current one finally held. Zoro could feel the sharp eyes of his teacher, as well as the no less harsh eyes of his opponent. But unlike usual, Jiroushin barely talked.

Back on Sasaki, the soldier had constantly spoken during combat, had explained how or why he did what he was doing, had explained tips and tricks, or had simply talked. Now he was calm, highly concentrated, and deadly, mercilessly exploiting every of Zoro’s mistake and giving him little time to dodge an attack, to jump up from the ground, gave him little time to breathe.

But very slowly Zoro could see it, could see that this fight was not only exhausting for him and that gave him a nice little extra push.

"You have good reserves," the Vice Admiral said as dusk began to begin. Of all the things he could praise, he decided to take the one Zoro was obviously cheating at.

"Whatever," he replied grimly, blocking the coming attack.

Then he noticed the Shichibukai slightly tilting his head and nodding to him. Zoro understood and nodded back; he had also suspected that Jiroushin’s comment meant that his Haki reserves were slowly running out, so now Zoro should turn up an absorb more. He could do that, and he would like to see how long it would take him to take all Haki out of the Vice Admiral.

But it was harder than he had expected. It was one thing to grab the arm of the Shichibukai and draw energy in peace, here two coated objects touched for only one millisecond and he should use this moment to suck out the other as fast as he could, without it being noticed and still concentrating on the fight. Yes, not so easy.

"What in heaven’s name are you doing?!"

Both swordsmen interrupted their attacks and looked over to the lord of the island, who had not said a single word until then and had only watched them with his arms crossed. Now, however, he looked over to Zoro in anger.

"What?" Zoro had no idea why Mihawk was staring at him as if he had just knocked Yoru off its drawer.

Once again, the elder gave him this look and nodded slightly.

"What, I'm doing it!" Zoro growled.

"Obviously not!"

"What's going on here?" Jiroushin looked back and forth between them disapprovingly.

"You drive me mad, Roronoa."

The Shichibukai rose and walked over to Zoro, sighing heavily.

"I gave you the sign," he grumbled, unnerved.

"Yes, I know," Zoro replied no less annoyed.

"Then why are you still absorbing his Haki?"

Once again, only Zoro could hear the Shichibukai, but that didn't mean he understood what the other wanted to know from him.

"That's what you told me," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"What? When should I have told you that?"

"Yes, just when you nodded like you were trying to give me a bad hint."

Zoro had to admit that he found it difficult to stay calm with so much stupidity.

"What are you talking about?" Shaking his head, Mihawk looked at him almost indignantly. "I told you that you have absorbed enough and that you should stop now. So that your own reserve will also fade at some point."

"What? When did you say that?"

"Just when I nodded to you, giving you a hint."

"You just nodded!" They were both not as quiet as they wanted. "How am I supposed to know what you meant by that? I thought you said _finish him off_ and not _hold yourself back_."

"What point would it make to carry on as before, Roronoa? It was obvious what I wanted."

"Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn't have misunderstood you!"

"Hey, hey!" Jiroushin had joined in and pulled them more or less apart. "Could someone please explain to me what's going on here?"

"Roronoa is too stupid to follow my instructions!"

"How can I know what a fucking nod means? A nod is not a clear instruction, it's no instruction at all, you could have just as easily had a stroke."

"Stop using my age as argumentation basis.”

"Stop taking things as a given. If you want me to do something, explain it to me with words like any normal person would and don't just nod to me in the middle of a fight."

"I've discussed with you before that you should get used to the fight first and then..."

"And after that what? You didn't say anything about _and then!"_

"Now, calm down!"

Zoro and Mihawk simultaneously turned to the Vice Admiral, who just apparently regretted drawing both of their angry looks on him.

"Okay," Jiroushin muttered, raising both arms reassuringly, "now everything is cleared up, isn't it? You know what to do now?"

He looked directly at Zoro.

"Yes, now," Zoro grumbled. 

"Good," Jiroushin interrupted the Shichibukai's emerging comment. "Then we can move on now. The day is coming to an end, you don't have much time."

"Not much time for what?" Zoro asked suspiciously.

But the blond gave him only half a grin and waved off, Mihawk also remained silent, but Zoro knew immediately that the danger of the morning had not yet disappeared.

Again, he went to his starting position.

"One more second."

Surprised, Zoro received a second bamboo stick from the Shichibukai.

"For your Haki," the elder muttered calmly, and Zoro was pretty sure he understood it correctly this time. He had to increase his Haki consumption, apparently they were really running out of time, whatever that would mean. 

Up to this point Zoro had come many times, but at this point the Shichibukai had interrupted their last training. Zoro had to prove to him that he was serious, that he was ready to face his monster.

The bamboo broke.

-Mihawk-

"Concentrate!" He barked at his student, handing him two new pipes.

He could see exactly that Roronoa was nervous, for a moment he had lost control over his Haki flow. It was obvious after all. Roronoa learned quickly and thanks to his talent and strength he was already able to keep up with the big ones, but he was still a beginner in the use of Haki and accordingly made novice mistakes. At this level, they were simply even more noticeable.

Then the fight continued. Now that Roronoa no longer tapped Jirou’s Haki, Mihawk was able to concentrate on other things.

Even if Mihawk wouldn't admit it, it was exhausting for him to follow Roronoa's Haki flow. It took special skill to be able to perceive the Haki flow of another, something Mihawk had perfected. But to catch tiny drops of energy exchanged between different armors, that was not easy to see, even for him. If he could feel it, it would be more practicable, but from several meters away, in the midst of a serious fight, yes, that really demanded him, too.

But now that part was over, now he could dedicate himself to the fight and assess Roronoa's progress. It did not take a master to realize that his little frog was no longer the same as he had been six months ago. Although the training had mainly focused on Haki, had hardly recreated a real fight, Roronoa had developed well.

Still his Kenbunshoku Haki was lacking, far too often it took him too long and he could only parry attacks at the last moment, even less often dodge. Now, as a man and equipped with a considerable raw power, he was able to compensate these slips, but as Loreen he would have been defeated long ago.

But Mihawk credited the youngster for not even showing in the least that his wrist was obviously hurting, not even talking about the ribs and bruises. A stranger would not have noticed his vulnerabilities at the moment.

It was remarkable. Compared to Jirou, Roronoa was rough and immature, still trying to balance with sheer muscle power what he lacked in skill and speed. His Busoshoku Haki was already quite good, not perfect and still too unsteady to be a base of reliance in a real fight, but it seemed almost more developed than his Kenbunshoku Haki – but that simply did not speak for the latter.

Under these conditions, one would think that Roronoa still had a long way to go before he would even catch up with Jirou, let alone Mihawk. One would think, because the longer the fight lasted, the better Roronoa got. This was when his true strength, his true talent, something that the Shichibukai had noticed early on, showed.

In the beginning Jirou had still been reluctant, Roronoa might not have noticed, but the soldier was almost perfect in recognizing how far he could go without directly injuring his opponent.

However, the longer the fight lasted, the less Jiroushin held back. When he had commented on Roronoa’s reserves, he had not meant his Haki - because it would take a longer, harder fight to let this source of energy dry up - but his very simple reserves of raw, muscular strength.

Jirou had assumed that Roronoa had fought with full strength from the very beginning and was right to wonder why the younger one did not let up with time, but only became stronger and better. 

But that was exactly the mistake. With every attack, parade, block, and breath, Roronoa got better, faster, stronger. But not because he had held back at the beginning, no, but simply because he had the ability and perfected it to read his opponent. Just as he did with Jiroushin.

By now, the fight had reached a level that confirmed Mihawk's assumption. Roronoa was able to take on the Vice Admiral. Not from the beginning, not in every area, but the longer the fight lasted, the stronger Roronoa became. If his opponent made the mistake of giving him time - either because he was not taken seriously or to play with him - Roronoa would use that for his advantage, just as he did with Jiroushin now. In the beginning, Jiroushin had been the clear winner, but Roronoa caught up and he was damn fast in doing so. How it annoyed Mihawk! This damn, unnatural, unfair talent!

As the sun swiped the horizon, he noticed a quick side view of his best friend.

That surprised him. On the one hand, it meant that Roronoa's Haki absorption had been so subtle that the Marine had not even noticed how the youngster had used his reserves. On the other hand, it was highly unusual for Jiroushin not to focus his attention entirely on the fight in front of him.

But then Mihawk smiled. The blond’s look had made it very clear to him that the other wanted to remind him of the bet, that his time was running out, and that the soldier was still not convinced by Roronoa.

Yet that Jiroushin had taken the time to even look at him actually meant the opposite, Jiroushin no longer needed any more information to make his judgment, even if he himself might not have been aware of it. This glance had just meant that the Marine wanted to stop before Roronoa could convince him, because slowly the scales tipped.

This little side view meant that Mihawk had won his bet, although Jiroushin thought he would be the winner. And they were not finished just yet. He could tell by looking at Roronoa, although strain was sliding over his face, his body was still as light-footed as it had been at the beginning.

Since his little frog fought with two sticks, it became clear that he felt safer, that he was more in his element. But two pipes also meant twice as much Haki consumption and the younger one had apparently not calculated that.

This fight would not last that much longer and an expectant tension filled Mihawk. This time he would look very closely, wanted to see exactly what would happen. His shoulder tingled slightly, he wanted to see the monster, Roronoa's true self.

Suddenly it got much darker, the sun had probably just set and Jiroushin doubtless took this as a sign to end the fight.

"Enough is enough!" He yelled in a direct attack. Bamboo broke and Roronoa slipped across the ground on all fours. The air was full of electricity, like just before a thunderstorm. Apparently unaware of this, Jiroushin looked over to Mihawk. "I'm sorry, Hawky. It's over, your protégé could not..."

“Shh...”

Mihawk raised a hand and interrupted his friend as he took a few steps towards him. His gaze was pinned on Roronoa, who was still squatting on the ground, his hands drilled into the dirt like claws. There he was again; the Demon of the East Blues had awakened.

"Hawky, what's the point...?"

Slowly Roronoa rose, his head tilted to the side, an almost insane grin on those narrow lips, the dirty fingers closed and opened up as if they were claws lurking with tension, and still it were these eyes fascinating Mihawk more than anything else. A quiet, throaty laugh echoed through the burgeoning darkness and Mihawk felt his own lust for blood rising. He wanted to fight.

"What the...?"

"May I introduce, Jiroushin? The Demon of East Blue: Roronoa Zoro."

It was just like last time, but now Mihawk knew for sure. Now he at least understood the trigger of this monster. Roronoa's own reserves had not yet been exhausted, his Haki had not yet sunken to a life-threatening level. But that was only true at first glance. In fact, Roronoa's storage was still well filled, but not with his own Haki – which Mihawk could barely perceive, nothing more than a hint – but with the Haki that Roronoa had absorbed from Jiroushin.

But the problem was that this foreign Haki had completely covered the remnants of Roronoa's own. That was why the monster consumed so much Haki. It prevented the foreign Haki from destroying his own.

At least that was Mihawk's guess. Mihawk could not do much more than make assumptions based on his observations one way or another, and yet he was almost certain why. If two different Busoshoku Hakis overlapped, the stronger would always destroy the weaker one. The more powerful Haki broke through the inferior. He could well imagine that too much foreign Haki could be deadly for Roronoa if his own became so dangerously low.

But then he came up with a new idea, something that would explain why Roronoa took so long to regenerate. Perhaps such a drastic mismatch between Haki destroyed Roronoa's ability to produce new Haki, at least temporarily.

"Interesting..."

"Hawky, what's going on here?"

Roronoa was still staring almost through them as his scratchy, reverberating laughter wafted through the rising darkness. Mihawk's blood pulsated, remembering the last time the other had been in this form.

"Do you see it, Jirou?" He whispered almost reverently. "The beginning of a new age!"


	41. Chapter 37 - Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so I was just enjoying my evening, watching the news, reading some stuff, when I realized that we have monday today and I haven't updated yet, so here we go, a little bit late, but still on time. 
> 
> Enjoy one of the calmer chapters, enjoy the rest, you will need it, promised ;-)

Chapter 37 - Understanding

-Mihawk-

“I still don't understand what happened.”

"How many more times do I have to explain it, Jirou? Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Could you stop making fun of me? This morning I just wanted to visit you and Loreen and now I was attacked by some mad - _presumed dead_ \- Roronoa Zoro!"

"My, what a great mood we have."

With the same grumpy expression, they walked side by side, towards the castle. Mihawk had thrown the unconscious youngster over his shoulder. Only a few minutes ago Roronoa had given in to his madness and had then tried to attack Jiroushin.

Mihawk had intervened. This time, he had noticed it even clearer than the first time. The speed, the raw power, and the unpredictable movements. Roronoa was not the first berserk he had met; on the contrary, Roronoa was an absolute paradigm. The mind got turned off, overpowered by the most basic instincts. A primitive desire for pain and blood supplanted everything else. In this aspect, Roronoa's mania differed little from others, only the trigger was different and Mihawk already racked his brain about how he could help Roronoa with this monster.

"That was pretty unfair of you," Jiroushin grumbled as they got closer to the castle. "Haki absorption, I didn't think that’s even possible."

"You have always been a sore loser, my dear friend. Admit that Roronoa had convinced you before already. His talent is one of a kind, even you have not foreseen something like this."

The other only shrugged his shoulders wordlessly.

"Excuse me? You disagree with me?"

They had reached the castle and Jiroushin opened the door for him.

"I think you're wearing rose-tinted glasses," he said mildly, earning one of Mihawk’s annoyed tongue-clicks.

"Tze, you accuse me of not being objective?"

Now his friend snorted with slight laughter and followed him through the castle, but without replying. But his silence was enough of an answer, and Mihawk was annoyed.

"Are you telling me you have not noticed that he has gotten better and better during your fight, Jirou? If I had not stepped in and banned him from continuing to absorb your Haki, he would have defeated you by now."

He had reached Roronoa’s room and opened the door.

"Do you really believe that?" Jirou behind him asked. "Do you really think that this bastard of a pirate is already equal to me."

Carefully, Mihawk let his little frog sink into the soft sheets.

"You do not?" He replied, without looking up.

Again, the other was silent and joined Mihawk at the bed side while he was taking off Roronoa's boots, soon he would probably change form.

"He's good," the Vice Admiral finally admitted. "When I consider that you have only trained him for half a year by now and he didn't even know what Haki is, I'm really impressed. He will no doubt surpass you in a few years."

"So why do you sound so dissatisfied?"

The first boot fell off. This task was still difficult for him, despite having done this quite often by now.

"Because I don't understand," murmured the other behind him. "You saw how he was; that was dangerous. I don't see that Roronoa Zoro is ready to beat me, but this monster there right now, that could even be dangerous to you."

Mihawk nodded as the second shoe came off.

"I know," he confirmed, pulling his shirt slightly to one side, revealing the fine lines that had all but faded. Heavy steps marched through the room behind him and Mihawk did not resist when the other grabbed his collar from behind and pulled it roughly to the side.

"Please be careful," Mihawk grumbled coolly, "you end up tearing it."

"That was him?" Jiroushin asked, stunned, without expecting an answer. "He actually managed to hurt _you?"_

"Of course not. As long as Roronoa can only use such abilities when he loses his mind, it is not an injury, but only a mishap."

"Tze, excuse." The other let him go. “But that's what I mean. Why are you training him? Why in God's name do you help someone from the lowest category to get stronger when he can become an unpredictable monster that is dangerous even to you?"

“He is not dangerous to me. It was an unfortunate incident, nothing more."

Now the other groaned. “But that doesn't answer my question. Why are you so keen, in this world of dangers, to breed another one yourself?"

Slowly, Mihawk turned to Jiroushin. 

"You think far too shortsightedly, Jirou. Did you learn that from your superiors?" Mihawk continued as the other wanted to contradict: "You are right, this mania is a danger to Roronoa's environment - not including me, of course - but even if I would not train him, he wants to defeat me and that is why he will do what it takes to become stronger. So, what do you prefer? An invincible enemy, but with reason and mercy, or an unpredictable monster that cannot distinguish friend from enemy?"

"That's why you train him?" The soldier thoughtfully said after a few seconds. "So he learns how to control this monster?"

Mihawk threw a blanket over his little frog. "It is about much more than just control."

"And that's why you spared him back then?"

"No, I only learned about Roronoa's special abilities a few months ago. I knew beforehand that I wanted to train him, and it shocks me that you cannot see his talent."

Jiroushin remained silent for a moment.

"It's not that I don't see his talent, Mihawk," he said earnestly, "but it just doesn't knock my socks off, like it apparently does with you. Honestly, he is not necessarily as superhumanly gifted as you claim him to be."

"What? What are you talking about, Jiroushin? Have the days in the cadet academy made you lose your mind? Have you not seen how he developed over the last few hours? At the beginning you could have eradicated him and at the end he was on a par with you."

"Hawky, of course, I’ve been the one fighting him, but believe me, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with talent."

Now Mihawk was getting angry. Repeatedly Roronoa had had given the lie to his expectations, had outgrown himself and had almost rubbed Mihawk's nose in his disgusting talent, and now his childhood friend wanted to tell him that Roronoa was not _that_ talented?

"Oh, that really upsets you, ri...?"

"Of course!" He threw the shoe of his little frog to the ground. "Why are you downplaying Roronoa's talent? For all I care, he is the worst villain in your story and I do not care if you hate him from the depths of your soul, but even you cannot deny that he is outstanding! And I'm not talking about that weird ability he has. Have you ever seen him fight, in a real fight I mean? His sword skills are impressive, and you have yet to see him with three..."

He interrupted himself when Jiroushin bubbled over with laughter next to him.

"You think this is funny?"

Close to tears, the Vice Admiral nodded and tried to calm down in vain. Mihawk felt anger rising in him, anger he rarely felt. He did not like it when people made fun of him, not taking him seriously. Especially Jiroushin, not after yesterday. Not after first Nataku and then Roronoa had made fun of him.

Suddenly Jiroushin stopped laughing.

"You take the whole thing really seriously," he muttered as Mihawk focused on keeping his own feelings in check.

Both took a deep breath.

"So, to make myself clear," Jiroushin murmured then, and the laughter of before disappeared, "I don't deny that he's good. I don't even deny that he's talented, but I saw you when you were in training, I saw Sharak, Nataku, Shanks, and so many more. It's not his talent that sets him apart from the crowd."

Slowly his anger boiled down when Mihawk realized that Jiroushin was taking him serious now, while Mihawk vehemently refused to describe the red Shanks as talented or as a true swordsman for that matter.

“I really don't think his talent is that outstanding. The reason why this pirate is so good is simply his uncompromising ambition."

"What are you talking about...?"

"I'm right, Mihawk, and you know that. He's no more talented than you, not necessarily even more talented than me. His Kenbunshoku Haki is good for half a year of training but not outstanding, definitely not supernatural. No, the reason you are so upset about and at the same time so fascinated by him is only because his ambition and this wild desire to get better."

Now Jiroushin looked at him unusually seriously and folded his arms.

"Roronoa Zoro is not a miracle boy and yet the ability to outlast everything else just to achieve his goal is arguably his greatest talent. And the more time you spend with him, the longer you watch him train and fight, the more you wonder how good you could have been today if you had been like him back then. If you had a rival like him back then, who had always forced you to grow beyond you, always take that one step more."

Mihawk remained silent.

"You once told me that I had more talent in the Kenbunshoku Haki than you, because I learned it faster. This is nonsense. I was never as gifted as you or your sister, but I wanted to impress you; I had to catch up the years you were ahead of me and didn't want to be a bother during your training. That's why I trained day and night. In class, private lessons, even at dinner. I didn't learn the basics faster than you because it was easier for me, but rather because I didn't do anything else until I had mastered them."

Astonished, he looked at his childhood friend. In fact, Mihawk and his sister had taken Jiroushin under their wing after they had started becoming friends, and to this day he had been convinced that he had simply recognized the talent in his friend.

"You're a person who’s good in a lot of things, Hawky. You never really had to work hard for anything. At school you were the best in class although you were napping most of the time, in private lessons you read the books once and then you could teach the teachers. Even in combat training you only had to watch something done once and you could imitate it immediately. You never had to work hard for anything, unlike the rest of the world. Your father was usually very dissatisfied with you, because you never tried and still belonged to the best. But everything was always too tedious, too bothersome for you, everything that didn't produce quick results was a waste of time for you."

"What is your point, Jirou? I am not in the mood to be scolded by you."

Jiroushin tilted his head slightly.

"Very rarely have you really been interested in something, very rarely something was worth your effort. The fewest fights could even make you a smile. I don't know, since Shanks..."

"Jiourshin!" He clicked his tongue harshly. He was very displeased by this conversation. The previous day he had to listen to similar words from Nataku, and now Jiroushin thought he had to address the same topic? As if Mihawk was not aware who he was and how he behaved.

"You love the art of the sword. I have never met anyone who honors, admires, enjoys, and pursues swordfighting as much as you do. It's more than passion, your whole life is determined by your love for your swords and your art, and apparently this bastard Roronoa Zoro is very similar to you." In slow steps, the Vice Admiral walked around the big bed, his eyes on the sleeping pirate. “But at the same time, he's so different from you. You enjoy swordfighting, but actually you stoop to do it, you with all your talents have chosen the one thing that will waste the least of your time. He, however, takes on anything to become a swordsman. He is uncompromising towards his opponent but towards himself as well when it comes to becoming the best and I think you can hardly comprehend that; it's hard for you to understand how someone is willing to give everything, even if it wouldn’t do anything good just to pursue their dream."

Mihawk also thoughtfully regarded his little frog. He was surprised how many thoughts his childhood friend had already wasted on Roronoa.

"You are absolutely right," he confessed calmly, before turning away. “It makes me so angry I cannot even put it into words. I had the best teachers, the necessary talent, and all the freedom you could wish for. He on the other hand, with a second-rate teacher, second-rate talent, and a working-class child, he has the one thing I have always lacked, stubborn ambition."

He bent down after the boots on the ground, putting them away.

"However, you are mistaken if you think I would be bemoaning it. The past has passed and although I may not have reached my full potential at that time, I am the best and deservedly so and as far as Roronoa is concerned, under my lead he will soon have made up for the missed opportunities and then grow far beyond himself." He remained silent for a moment. "No, what makes me angry is that neither he nor I are the perfection I am looking for. I am close and Roronoa will be even better, but still, we cannot eradicate the missing something from our youth, no matter how many years will pass, not with him and not with me."

Jiroushin laughed quietly.

"What are you talking about? This perfection that you are talking about does not exist. Man-made things cannot be perfect and there is no perfection in sword art; it is called art because it is infinite, incomplete, and always will be."

Mihawk did not respond.

"But you're right, I don't know anyone closer to this unattainable perfection than you, and who knows, maybe this brat will actually surpass you."

"You do not understand, Jiroushin. You do not understand me."

The other smiled softly.

"No, I don't. Nobody understands you in that matter."

Again, Mihawk decided not to answer.

"This student that your sister was looking for, you were looking for, there is no one like that, Mihawk, you know that. No one could live up to those demands that you couldn't even live up to. I don't think much of this pirate here, but even to him it's not fair what you're saying. He's not the talent you want to see in him, but I still see the potential in him to surpass you, I admit that."

With a slight shake of his head, Mihawk folded his arms and sighed softly. They talked past each other, as often when he tried to explain what he really thought when it came to the sword art. Jiroushin was right, no one had ever understood his views, his deep desire for perfection and for this... something more.

"So, did you accept him as a student because of that? Because you thought he was the one?"

Again, Mihawk shook his head.

"I just told you, Jirou. He is not and I never expected him to be perfect to be able to beat me, after all, I am not as well. Roronoa will become the best swordsman in the world, I am certain of that."

Sighing, Mihawk settled on his chair next to the bed and reached for the booklet on Roronoa's bedside table; it was the third volume that Roronoa was currently translating.

"Why then, Hawky? I just don't understand why you spared him back then. You were so impressed by him. I remember exactly how you called me a year ago and told me about him. He's good, no question, but even as Loreen, no, even before he awakened your fighting spirit, ignited this fire within you, which even Shanks could only laboriously keep burning. I just don't understand... Oh." During his monologue, the Vice Admiral had wandered through the plain room, had repeatedly cast a glance at Mihawk, but spoke to himself most of the time with his arms folded. Now he had finally come to a result and looked over to Mihawk, who tried to decipher the unknown runes in front of him. “So that's how it is, _he_ understands it? He understands you?"

Without looking up, Mihawk nodded slowly. As different or similar as they may were, none of this mattered. Rarely did he have such conversations with Roronoa, but it was not necessary either; even if he could not find the words to describe what he longed for, he knew that Roronoa understood it, pursued it, and sought it the same way.

Roronoa could come across as simple minded and had a naive world view but concerning the sword art he was the first to understand what Mihawk felt when he held a sword. Sometimes he even felt that Roronoa understood these things much easier than he did and oh how that could upset him.

"You know," he muttered, looking across the rune-covered pages at the sleeping pirate, "you are right. Back when he was facing me in the East Blue, he did not seem terribly talented to me; he could not even save his swords from breaking. At the age of almost twenty, he could not even use Haki. No, I was both entertained and impressed by his manner. His technique amused and astonished me. But you are right, I have faced much stronger opponents, and yet those fights were mostly boring and not worthy of my time."

"And yet this boy from the East Blue was able to stir up your blood."

A faint grin crept over his lips.

“Yes."

Now Jiroushin sighed quietly.

"You are incorrigible and selfish. You're training him just so you finally have a worthy opponent, right?"

"Of course. Why else should I do it?"

The other snorted and settled on the edge of the bed.

"I want to fight with him, Jiroushin, I want to fight with him regardless of the consequences, until the island breaks down among us, and I can no longer move my body due pain. I want to fight with him, over and over again. I finally want to fight again, Jiroushin."

The blond looked at him shaking his head.

"You are unbelievable. Since Shanks, I haven't heard you talk like that. I didn't even know that you were still carrying this childlike desire in you."

Mihawk did not respond. How could he explain to someone who wanted to prevent a bloody confrontation at any cost that this greed never left him. Often it was calm, wafting only under the surface, but it was never gone.

That was the price of being the best, there was no one left against whom he could fight to the fullest without having to bear the risk of killing the opponent and although Mihawk mostly did not care whether his enemy survived, his last fight, when he had really reached his limits, had happened long ago.

That was his great hope. That Roronoa would grow into such an opponent and he finally had someone with whom he did not have to hold back. Yes, that was his dream, his true, selfish, self-destructive dream.

His gaze was still on the unconscious youngster. He did not know when exactly he had begun to put all his hopes in this boy, but he knew it was far longer than just six months ago. Then he noticed how the wise eyes of his childhood friend watched him and looked up. Smiling, Jiroushin rubbed his beardless chin.

"He's really important to you, isn't he?"

Condescendingly, he leaned back.

"Well, what an unnecessary question."

Shaking his head, the other rose.

“That's not how I meant it. I meant... You like him, don't you?"

Shaking his head, Mihawk put the book away and folded his arms.

"Go take a shower, Jiroushin, you smell of sweat and dirt."

Laughing, the other nodded, before suddenly staring at the bed with his eyes ripped open in terror. Mihawk followed his gaze.

"Always fascinating, isn't it?"

As expected, Roronoa's madness affected his body. Just this morning he had completed his morning laps as Loreen, yet he was already transforming. Mihawk knew that physical exhaustion accelerated the reconversion, especially if Roronoa's Haki was exhausted. Did that mean that even if Roronoa learned to control his inner monster, he would always sooner than later turn into Loreen after using this ability?

If so, that was just one more reason that he had to become much stronger as Loreen.

"How is this even possible?" Jiroushin muttered, stunned, stepping one step closer to the bed. "So, you told the truth. Roronoa Zoro and Lady Loreen are one and the same person."

"What? Have you really still doubted that? Please, if I had needed an excuse, I would have come up with something more plausible."

The other nodded absently.

"But I still don't understand how it's possible."

Mihawk shrugged.

"Me neither. The little that Roronoa knows about this strange state, he shares with me only very reluctantly."

"Could he always do that? Amazing, a real shape-shifter."

"No, only since Senichi and only since the war he can change to his true form again. It is pretty annoying."

"Oh, that explains a lot," muttered the other, lifting up the sheet.

"What are you doing, Jirou? If your wife knew..."

"Shut up, Hawky. I just want to check something."

"And that would be?"

He watched as the other carefully lifted up Roronoa’s left wrist. He was not surprised that Jiroushin had noticed during the fight that Roronoa had barely used it. He was a rather careful observer and had probably searched for reasons why Roronoa would have switched the stick from his dominant left hand to his right only seconds after the fight had begun.

"So, his injuries remain even if he becomes Loreen."

"Of course. It is not like they are just disappearing. On the contrary, what hardly causes him any problems as Roronoa Zoro can easily hinder him in this form. However, the wounds actually heal differently depending on the body."

“Hawky?”

“Hmm?”

They looked at each other.

“He said this morning you'd thrown him through the room. This is an extremely uncharacteristic behavior for you."

With half a grin, he looked away. How could he explain to Jiroushin that, unfortunately, such behavior was not that uncharacteristic for him as soon as it concerned Roronoa? But when he thought of the reason for this dispute, he lost his rotten humor.

"Nataku visited before. It was not a pleasant meeting, as you can imagine. Unfortunately, Roronoa was in the wrong place at the wrong time. "

"Oh, he was really faster than me."

"He was. So, you knew about my father?"

"Yes, you know Marine gossip spreads quickly."

Synchronously, they sighed.

"Nataku said he is dying."

"Oh, as far as I know he's in the hospital ward and probably had to have surgery, but it probably shouldn't be that bad yet. We both know that Nataku likes to have a dramatic choice of words." Carefully, the Vice Admiral covered Roronoa again.

"Will you visit him?" He then asked Mihawk.

"I have more important things to do than travel through the world just to see my father in a hospital bed, training Roronoa for example."

The other shrugged.

"You disagree?"

"Oh, I don't know, I don't want to dictate anything to you, it's your decision and Gat and you really don't have an easy relationship." Again, Jiroushin shrugged. "I'd probably go in your place."

"You would as well?"

The other tilted his head.

"I would as well?"

"Roronoa kind of gave me the same advice yesterday," he said with a sigh, rubbing his face.

"Well, if he and I agree, there has to lie some truth in it. Is it okay if I take the room at the end of the hallway again? It has a bathtub."

The other was already leaving.

"Yeah, you can, but Jirou can I ask you for something?" With big eyes, the other turned to him. "I will not ask you to forgive Roronoa for his deeds, of course not. Because I do not know if that is even possible.”

Now the Vice Admiral raised an eyebrow and looked at him seriously.

"But please try to ignore it for a few days and get to know Roronoa, for me. I think you would like him, after all, you liked Loreen too."

Sighing, Jiroushin rubbed his neck.

"I'm sorry, Hawky. That is not possible. I will keep my word and help you, and I am ready to commit treason and keep everything I have experienced on this island for myself. But don't get me wrong, Hawky. I do this for you and only for you. The moment he turns his back on you or something happens, at that very moment I will personally drag him to the Marine Headquarters and give him his just punishment. Do you understand me?"

Jiroushin left behind an unnerved Shichibukai.

"Ah, such an annoying moralizer."


	42. Chapter 38 - Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> soooo it's been a really long week, so all I'm doing is post this here real quick and then I'm off to bed, because I'm freaking tired!
> 
> Thank you for your comments and have a great weekend ;-)
> 
> See you monday^^

Chapter 38 - Control

-Mihawk-

"Geez, you are still here. Don't you want to go to bed at some point?"

He looked up from the loose pages in his lap when the Vice Admiral came in, no longer in his uniform, but apparently in clothes that he had borrowed from Mihawk's closet. His wet curls swung wildly up and down.

"Do you actually plan on sitting here until she... I mean he wakes up? My God, this is confusing."

"You will get used to it and yes, as you know, I am a man of habit and it has become a habit for me to wait until Roronoa wakes up."

Mihawk could see the other slightly pinching his eyes and looking at him seriously.

"When have you changed that much? And I haven't even noticed."

Jiroushin pulled a chair over to him.

“That is not true, you have noticed. But you decided that Lady Loreen would be explanation enough and when you noticed something could not be right you shut down contact with me."

Grumbling something approving under his breath, the other dropped on his chair next to him.

"What are you reading? Notes about your training?"

"Not really."

With a smile, he put the pages back together in the right order and stowed them in the small bedside table, trying to make it look as if he had never touched them. Roronoa did not like him reading them before he was finished.

"You should lie down a little bit, Jirou. It was certainly a busy day for you."

"Later, first I want you to tell me all you've kept from me over the last few months."

Seriously they looked at each other and he noticed that Jiroushin was standing up to him this time; he was really serious.

"Why should I do this?"

Now the other grinned and a mischievous sparkle lit his eyes.

"What do you want? I join your charade, but for that I want to be initiated into everything. How can I help you in the best way possible if I do not know what I need to know? What do I do next time he faces me as Loreen and Eizen comes around the corner? Damn it, does Eizen actually know? Why is this pirate infiltrating the World Government? Mihawk, what the hell...?"

"Calm down, Jiroushin. Believe me, Roronoa and I could do very well without Eizen. In fact, his constant meddling is a thorn in my side."

But he did what the other asked of him and began to speak about the very beginning, when he had found an abandoned girl in the forest of Sasaki, who hours later had turned out to be Roronoa Zoro. He left out only a few things or altered them slightly. Jiroushin did not need to know every little fact, not every delicate detail or emotional moment.

He was surprised by how long it took him to sum up the last few months, and when he finally finished, he realized how dry his mouth was. Annoyed, he leaned back against his chair. This was all so bothersome. Jiroushin next to him had his arms folded and observed the sleeping pirate for some time.

“I still can't believe it. You let me run right into this trap. I trusted Loreen, because of you I trusted Roronoa Zoro! I trained him, talked to him about things that he shouldn’t know. I danced with him on the ball and... and gave you my blessing."

"And now you know why I reacted so negatively." Mihawk decided to ignore the rest of the charge. "Not even talking about Roronoa’s reaction. He hated it when Kanan wanted to educate his female side. He says he does not understand why women should have different standards than men. It is very amusing to watch him rant about it.”

The other remained silent for a moment before he finally sighed deeply.

"Oh, this sucks."

"What exactly, my dear friend?" Mihawk leaned back with his arms folded.

"Well, if I consider what you've had to deal with for the last few months, I can't help but be impressed."

"Are you finally admitting it now?"

“I haven't denied anything. Geez, you're so exhausting."

Synchronously, they rubbed their faces and stared slightly annoyed at each other.

"What is your plan concerning your father now? Will you go?"

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders.

"Rather not. I would probably be on the road for a little more than two weeks, even with my ship, and letting Roronoa train unattended for that long makes me feel uncomfortable. But I do not like the alternative of taking him with me and risking him running into Nataku, who seems to have an unhealthy interest in him – that is, of course, Lady Loreen."

His childhood friend raised an eyebrow.

"To me, this sounds like some lazy excuse. As if it would kill him to train for two weeks without you."

"You know Roronoa's story, Jiroushin, such a result would not be unlikely. He also gets easily upset about every single day we do not use for training, and if I have to choose between him and my father, the decision has long since been made."

Now the other shook his head.

"You're pretty harsh."

"Nonsense, I just like to avoid wasting my time and as frustrating as training with Roronoa can be, it cannot keep up with the frustration I would have to endure traveling for seven useless days, only for half an hour at my father's bedside and then traveling back for another seven days. I prefer to train Roronoa and to make sure that he does not accidentally kill himself."

"I could take care of him for two weeks."

Confused, Mihawk tilted his head as the other murmured this proposal almost inaudibly and looked at Roronoa as if they were talking about some untrained puppy.

"What are you talking about, Jiroushin? Just an hour ago you wanted to turn him in at the first opportunity. Besides, you have a pregnant woman at home; Lirin will be anything but thrilled when you stay away for so long."

"Oh, in terms of that..." Apparently embarrassed, the other slowly rubbed his neck, without looking up. "... So, to be honest, it was her idea that I would visit you."

Now he looked over to Mihawk, who did not even need to ask to get his answer. The other sighed heavily.

“She says I'm stressing her, and I can't even blame her. You know what happened, what she had to go through and at her age, pregnancies are even riskier, so I just want to..."

"So you have mutated into an over-concerned dragon father."

"How nicely you put it," the other grumbled, but nodded. “She says my loving care would crush her, so she sent me away. _A few weeks of vacation,_ she said."

"And she sends you to me? And you do not even take clothes with you?"

The other rose and shrugged.

"Maybe she kicked me out because I annoyed her too much and because I had already submitted my pregnancy leave..."

"Why that? You are not the one who carries the child? Why should you take days off from work?"

Jiroushin looked at him from pinched eyes.

"You are just as mean as Lirin."

Now Mihawk could not prevent a quiet smile.

"You are too caring, Jirou. Lirin's parents have a whole court of doctors and there will be someone there for them day and night, so you do not have to monitor them like a ticking time bomb."

"Keep talking. What about Roronoa Zoro?"

Mihawk folded his arms.

“That is different. Lirin is a smart, mindful woman and Roronoa a selfish fool."

_Then do it._

Mihawk looked at his unconscious little frog.

_Just kill me if it makes you happy._

"Selfish fool," he muttered again, shaking his head. How many times had Roronoa offered him his life? Almost begged Mihawk to kill him?

During their first encounter, Roronoa had offered his life as a fee, only to be able to fight against him once. Quietly, Mihawk clicked his tongue. Why then was he the one who felt threatened, even though Roronoa was the one risking his life?

He looked surprised when Jiroushin slightly patted him on the shoulder.

"Are you even listening, Hawky? What's going on? What are you annoyed about again?"

He had completely forgotten that the soldier was still there. But now the blond raised an eyebrow with a grin.

"If I didn't know better, I would say you're worried about this pirate."

For a moment, they looked at each other.

"Go to sleep Jiroushin. Believe me, you will need all your strength. Keeping an eye on Roronoa is worse than any toddler could be."

The blond next to him laughed.

"So that means you agree? You will visit Gat and entrust me with your worthy protégé?"

Mihawk nodded silently, his eyes pinned on Roronoa.

"Where does this sudden change of heart come from? I thought it was a waste of your time. Besides, I could still turn your Roronoa in, couldn't I? As long as he's not superior to me."

"Don't call him that."

"How? What bothers you about it? That's his name now..."

“Jiroushin." Mihawk rose and walked through the plain room to the window, looking out into the darkness of the night. “I will leave tomorrow morning and come back as soon as I can. For that time, I trust you to take care of Roronoa." 

He heard the other making a surprised sound. "Um, okay sure. But as I said, Hawky. He's not a small child - or a woman during a high-risk pregnancy - why do you always talk about him as if..."

“He is not hanging on to life.”

“What?”

Sighing, Mihawk folded his arms.

“It is like you say, Roronoa is merciless. Not only to others, not only concerning the swordfight, but also – no, above all – towards himself. He always uses everything he has, including his life. It would not be good if his luck leaves him alone in such a fateful moment."

He could hear Jiroushin rising behind him.

"Your words make no sense to me, Hawky. But whatever. I will now follow your advice and go to sleep. What about you? Shouldn't you rest a little?"

He shook his head without turning around.

"I will have days to rest. But I want to talk to Roronoa before I leave, so I will wait until he wakes up."

"Suit yourself."

He could hear heavy steps as the other walked out of the room.

“Jiroushin." The steps fell silent and Mihawk sighed again, knowing that he would soon regret the following words. "Even though I do not like to admit it, you are probably right about Roronoa." 

"You've got to get a bit more specific, Hawky. I suppose you don't mean the part where I think he's one of the worst criminals of the century..."

This actually made Mihawk grin, but only for a short moment before he got serious again.

“He is important to me and I am constantly worried about him. Even now, seeing him safely in bed in front of me, I cannot stop worrying.” Shaking his head, he looked at his fuzzy reflection in the glass. "You are correct, I like him, very much. So please, watch out for Roronoa for the next few days. I entrust his life to you, Jiroushin, the life of my little frog."

Silence.

"Tze, you are truly selfish, Hawky. See you tomorrow morning."

The door fell close. Slowly, Mihawk turned around and took a deep breath. He did not like change, but since Roronoa had come around his life had changed, even his monotonous friendship with Jiroushin seemed to change.

Shaking his head, he went back to his seat at the side of Roronoa's bed. In the past he would not have said such a thing, would never have asked for such a thing, would probably never have...

"Selfish, isn't it?"

-Zoro-

"Good morning."

He strenuously tried to keep his eyes open. His body felt numb and heavy, so he had lost control again. What had happened? Once again, he couldn't remember anything. Not much more than the fight against Jiroushin and the fact that the other had wanted to end the fight.

On the edge of his field of vision, he could see the blurry scheme of the Shichibukai, but his head did not want to obey him and turn to the side.

Except for the small light source behind Mihawk, the room was dark, so it had to be in the middle of the night. This meant that Zoro had been unconscious either for only a few hours or at least for a whole day.

"For six hours you were unconscious," the Shichibukai replied, as if he had followed Zoro's thoughts, "much shorter than last time. Which may be because I interrupted your madness faster this time, but there is no need to thank me."

Zoro snorted.

"Look at that, you also seem to recover much faster. How pleasing."

Nevertheless, Zoro couldn't really move and without the annoying hair falling in his face he hadn't even been able to tell which body he was in, it seemed so far away.

He could hear the other man moving and then Mihawk sat on the bed, deliberately bringing himself into Zoro's field of vision. For a moment, the Shichibukai said nothing, but just looked at Zoro, seemed to observe him.

"I assume that you cannot remember anything this time as well."

Instead of a nod, Zoro could only grunt in agreement.

"Well." The elder sighed and interrupted eye contact for a moment. "Then I will explain everything to you now and then you will sleep, understand?"

Zoro didn't even think about paying tribute to this ridiculous instruction with an answer.

"You can rejoice, Roronoa, your mania is no longer a mystery to me. That means as soon as you can train again, you will learn to control it."

What was the other talking about? How was it possible that after watching it only twice, Mihawk could claim to have seen through it?

"Yes, that surprises you, right?" Now the Shichibukai grinned arrogantly. "It is very simple. Your mania is a defense mechanism of your body to protect you. Do not look at me like that, I will explain it to you now."

This was also desperately needed, because Zoro did not understand a word.

"As you know, each Haki is as individual as the fingerprint, and Jiroushin's Haki certainly felt different to mine." That was true, Zoro had thought he had imagined it, but apparently, they really differed. "And as you know, the stronger Haki always destroys the weaker one, the harder armor breaks the weaker one."

This time Zoro managed to nod.

"Haki is, of course, nothing more than the manifested form of one's own life energy. Like blood, the body reproduces it constantly, supplying the organs and cells with it and replenishing the reserves. But by your gift, you can feed on foreign Haki like a blood transfusion and mix it with your own Haki."

So far Zoro came along.

"Of course you should already know all this, after all, these are the basics that we have covered long ago. But from now on it will be interesting. The problem, however, is that you cannot just donate every blood type to every person. There are different types of blood with different particles and some people do not tolerate certain particles and the different types of blood can destroy each other. Behaving very similarly... You do not understand that comparison, do you?"

Zoro shook his head, at least he tried. Until now he had no idea that there were different blood types, now he understood why Chopper stored blood bottles from every single one of the crew. Had the young doctor mentioned something in this direction? He didn't know and, to be honest, he didn't care.

The Shichibukai rolled his eyes and rubbed through his face unnerved.

"Why am I even trying?" He grumbled. "Alright, Roronoa, it is quite simple explained. It is unnatural to have foreign Haki in one’s body, since different Hakis will always try to destroy each other. Nevertheless, you are able to do this and you can even control and use the foreign Haki like your own. Your Haki does not destroy the foreign Haki in your body for whatever reason, even if your own Haki is much stronger than the foreign one. But when the point comes that you have spent very much of your own and little of the foreign Haki, this ratio flips. From this point on, the foreign Haki is stronger than yours and tries to destroy your own Haki. Do you understand? And if your own Haki dies out and your body is prevented from forming new Haki by the foreign Haki, then you die."

What bothered Zoro most about this statement was that he had no idea when and how the Shichibukai had gotten all that knowledge, while he himself was already struggling to understand what Mihawk was trying to explain.

"So the moment when the foreign Haki becomes stronger than your own, either because you spent too much of your own or just picked up too much foreign Haki at once – as it was the case both in the fight against Jiroushin and against me – your body goes into this defense mechanism in order to spent as much foreign Haki as quickly as possible, so that your own Haki is again the stronger one and is not destroyed."

Slowly, Zoro understood what that meant.

"It is exactly what you think, Roronoa. As long as you use the foreign Haki instead of your own, you will never succumb to this mania again, as simple as that."

There was the solution. A nightmare that had haunted him his whole life and suddenly it had lost its horror, suddenly this nightmare was no longer a reality. Only now did Zoro notice that the Shichibukai was watching him attentively, an almost nasty smile on his thin lips.

"So, is this the way you want to go, Roronoa?? "

This question confused him, and the other's grin grew. Of course, he wanted to go that way, why wouldn't he want to? With a bit of training, he would be able to take advantage of this ability and erase the disadvantage. He would never again wake up and not be able to move, not knowing what had happened in the last few hours.

The Shichibukai laughed quietly and turned his gaze away.

"So naive?"

"W... what?" Zoro growled, but his voice barely obeyed him.

"Well, you still do not understand it, Roronoa. Of course, you can avoid ever becoming this monster again. But..." Suddenly, Mihawk bent down to him, so that their noses almost touched and Zoro could see nothing but these engaging intense eyes. "But you will never be able to defeat me like that."

Now the Shichibukai again brought some distance between them, his voice just a hint and his grin wild, almost animalistic, as Zoro had only seen a few times.

"I play in a very different league, Roronoa, and there are very, very few people in this world who can compete at this level. And what I have seen from you may be enough to be able to catch up at some point. But believe me, to defeat me, it takes a real monster and not a leashed dog."

Did the other want to tell him that he...?

"If you want to defeat me, Roronoa, then it is not enough to keep the monster under lock and key. When I say you have to control this monster, I mean, you have to become this monster and use its abilities for you, do you understand?"

This bastard!

Mihawk sat upright again, still arrogantly grinning, and stroke his beard.

"You really thought it would be enough to deal with your problem for a few weeks, face your anxiety for a few weeks, and then you could bury it forever? Oh Roronoa, I really thought you were more grownup."

Somehow the other one just annoyed him unbelievably and the worst thing was that Zoro didn't even have the strength to oppose him, which annoyed him even more.

"When I asked you to choose, when I told you that you were afraid to take the next step, it was not about whether you were ready to face your monster, Roronoa, I thought I made that clear. It was about whether you are ready to become the monster."

For a second, the other was silent and inspected his hand, then he rose.

"But you do not have to worry about that for now." Now he sounded as smooth as ever. "I decided to follow your and Jirou's advice and visit my father to sort things out once and for all. I will be away for two weeks. During this time, Jiroushin will monitor your training and you will be working on exactly what we have just discussed. I think two weeks should be enough time for you to learn to distinguish and use the different Hakis within your body and when I am back you can tell me if you are ready to become a monster to defeat me."

The Shichibukai raised one hand and disappeared from Zoro's field of vision as he walked to the door.

"I ask you not to trouble Jirou too much. He will soon become a father and should not..."

"Mi..hawk!" Breathing heavily, Zoro sat up. His upper body slumped almost over again and his hands lay powerless in his lap, but now he could see the Shichibukai again, who met his gaze with an almost surprised expression.

"Roronoa, you should not..."

"Shut... up." Why did he feel like his body was weighing tons? "Now it’s... my turn.”

Mihawk turned to him again and folded his arms.

"Well, I am waiting."

Zoro couldn't prevent a grin.

"You are an... asshole, you know that? I... thought all this time, it's about something important. I thought you... didn't want to train me anymore... because I'm afraid of… losing control… and not being ab… able to recover..." It was exhausting, but he wanted to say it now, not wait two weeks, not give in to the other. "And now you tell me... that I only... need to become… the monster myself?"

" _Only?"_

"You bastard! If all... I need to do to defeat my monster is ... to become it myself... if that is enough to defeat you, then..." He could see Mihawk's eyes grow. "Why didn’t you… just say so?”

His body was heavy, and he dropped back on the pillow.

"You know... they don't call me the Demon of the East Blue for nothing."

It had been exhausting, he was tired, and his eyes were about to fall close.

A quiet laugh came from the door.

"You are truly impossible, Roronoa."

He did not answer anything, he was too exhausted to say anything else; it cost all his strength to stay awake.

"You should really sleep now. See you again in two weeks and then I will teach you to defeat me."

Zoro fell asleep with a grin.

-Mihawk-

"Are you really sure you want to do this to him?"

He rushed through the dark forest, Jiroushin next to him. It would take hours until the sun rose.

Immediately after his conversation with Roronoa, he had gone back into his room – which had shown no traces of the previous night, although he did not know whether Perona or Jiroushin had been responsible for cleaning up his mess – to pack and now he wanted to leave. The sooner he left, the sooner he would come back.

"It is his decision, Jiroushin, and he is ready, he is willing."

The soldier next to him snorted.

“He has no idea what that means. It would be much safer for him to surmount this madness, not to succumb to it."

Mihawk stopped and looked cold at the blond.

"But Jiroushin, what good does safety do if he cannot defeat me?"

With his mouth open, the other shook his head, apparently unable to answer him.

"You have to understand his point of view, my dear friend." Mihawk continued his way. "You said it yourself, Roronoa is merciless, uncompromising. I think he was even relieved when he understood what he actually had to expect. He wants to have it his way, not matter the consequences."

"His way will kill him."

"Or me, if he gets good enough."

"Tze..."

The other was silent.

"What is your problem, Jiroushin? I would have expected you to approve if he breaks in the attempt of controlling it and loses his mind? A monster less to worry about."

"All of this is your fault," was all the other murmured when they reached the port. The Marine ship, which had probably brought the blond, had long since disappeared. "I wish he wasn't so important to you, Hawky, then a lot of things would be easier. Then I wouldn't have to care what happens to him."

Now Mihawk stopped again and regarded his friend from the side, who stared stubbornly straight ahead.

"But the way things are, I have to hope that nothing happens to him, must defend his life in doubt, just because of you and your weird feelings for this bastard."

"You know I do not bind you to any of this, Jirou. Even if you would kill him after I leave, I could understand it and would not blame you."

Jiroushin remained silent for a second.

"Liar," he whispered, "you may understand it and maybe comprehend my actions. Still, you'd hate me for it, still, you'd want revenge.”

Mihawk observed how a faint strip of silver illuminated the horizon.

"You know me too well, Jiroushin. Nevertheless, regardless of what happens, even if you kill Roronoa, I will never take your life, nor will I take the lives of the people you care about. You should know that, too."

"And I have always told you that I will never oppose you, Mihawk. But I did this morning."

Now Mihawk smiled.

"Oh no, that was not opposing. I know your speed Jirou. If you had been really serious, I would have hardly had the time to get a sword and put myself in front of Roronoa, I would have needed to block you from the side or barehanded."

He raised his hand to greet his friend and walked along the narrow dock.

"Mihawk!" He stopped but did not turn around. "If I would take Roronoa to court. You'd get him back, wouldn't you? You wouldn't allow him to be executed, would you?"

Did Jiroushin really want to test him right now? What a ridiculous attempt.

"Please, Jirou, I am not twenty anymore." He walked on. "If the Marines dare to stand in my way once more, I will burn them down to the ground this time." 

"You're obsessed, Mihawk, do you know that?"

Now he smiled.

"Oh yes, I am very much aware of that."


	43. Chapter 39 - Vendure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody!
> 
> Hope you're having a good start into the new week! Here comes another chapter, I hope you will enjoy it, although our dear Mihawk will not be present... yeah, I heard that sigh of relief in the background; it was probably Zoro, right? ;-)
> 
> Have fun^^

Chapter 39 - Venture

-Zoro-

Silently, he continued his work, put the powder tassels aside, and took the cotton cloth, which Josei preferred to rice paper, very different from his other swords. He could feel those stern eyes staring at him but decided to ignore them. As long as the other did not speak, there was no reason for him to interrupt the silence.

Early in the morning Mihawk had left to visit his father and during the day Zoro had been able to move again, but after a brief discussion Jiroushin had refused to start training with him today, as long as Zoro did not manage to return to his original form. 

Zoro was almost impressed by how unquestionable the otherwise good-humoured soldier had sounded; he must have talked to Mihawk about Zoro's training for a long time.

So Zoro had done his usual morning routine, as every day, and now he sat on his sofa and took care of his swords, aware of the Vice Admiral's eyes.

Perona had showed up several minutes ago and had mentioned that dinner would be ready in half an hour. She was the last to learn that Jiroushin would step in for Mihawk, but she seemed delighted. Obviously, she liked the Marine, probably way more than the Shichibukai.

"Oh, I just can't get used to it," Jiroushin groaned. "Can't you finally transform?"

"It's not possible yet," Zoro replied absently as he continued to examine his sword. "Believe me, I don't run around like this voluntarily."

"Argh!" Now he looked up as the blond rubbed his hair. "How could I have missed this? How have I ever thought that Loreen - that _you! -_ could be some sweet, gentle soul? I mean, the harsh expression, the rough manner, how could I have missed all of this?"

"Not your fault," Zoro said only, brushing over Josei one last time before putting it away. “It's the same for everyone until they know who Lady Loreen really is. So don't rack your brain about it, won’t do anything good."

The steps of the other echoed through the room as he walked up and down. Zoro, meanwhile, decided to take another look at his Wado-Ichi-Monji, which he had, of course, taken care of at the very first, but he felt guilty that he hadn't been allowed to train with it for so long. Only to clean them, Mihawk allowed him to carry his swords, with the exception of Josei, which Zoro took along whenever he was on the road as Lady Loreen.

"You take the whole thing pretty calmly," the Marine murmured.

"Well, what do you expect? No matter how much I resist, after little more than a day I just change, and if my Haki is exhausted then even faster. It's not great or anyhing, but after a few months you get used to it. Actually, I should be grateful that I can transform at all. Would be quite annoying if the cook couldn't look me in the eye while arguing."

"The cook? Are you talking about your crew?"

Zoro nodded only as he fixed his eyes once again on those few fine lines, he had let his sword suffer.

"But your crew doesn't exist anymore, right?"

For one moment, Zoro's gaze lingered on the finest scratch, then he looked directly at the other.

"I think it would be better for you the less you know as a Marine, but I only have 18 months left to train with Mihawk."

He could see these bright eyes getting even bigger. But then Zoro turned his gaze away and decided to focus on his sword again.

"So, two years," he heard the other mutter, "do you really think that two years in total will be enough time to defeat Hawky?" 

"How am I supposed to know." Zoro shrugged and put his sword away. "How would I know how strong I need to become? After all, I've never really seen this bastard fight."

He collected his swords and looked at the soldier. Although the atmosphere between them was tense at the moment, he still liked to talk to the elder.

Even then on Sasaki, they had spent many hours exchanging not only about the sword fight, but also about the special whims of the Shichibukai, a problem shared was a problem halved after all. In addition, Zoro had noticed that it was relatively easy for him to open up to Jiroushin – which he had initially very much disliked – even though he did not know exactly why. Perhaps because the blond often reminded Zoro of Luffy, or because Jiroushin was Mihawk's best – and only – friend and Zoro trusted him. He couldn't say what the real reason was and didn't really want to worry about it.

"Sometimes during training or other situations there's a little moment when I think 'oh, that's his level', only to find out that I can't grasp his skills at all yet, even after half a year." He slightly hit the armrest. "I'm pretty annoyed that he simply does not want to fight with me."

Now Zoro rose and began to clean up his cleaning materials.

"During our first fight, I was able to estimate pretty well how strong you are, Jiroushin. The same with Homura, although he was still miles ahead of me back then. I thought I could figure out how much Mihawk is ahead of you, but he claims that even the both of you together wouldn't stand a chance against him."

How it all annoyed him. It was as if he wanted to blindly try to sort stones by color while the Shichibukai watched him laughing.

"But how can I estimate how strong he really is when he never fights with me, if he never does anything more serious..."

"So, he didn't explain it to you."

Surprised, Zoro looked up. Jiroushin stood at the other end of the room, turned towards the dark window with his arms crossed, but now he looked over to Zoro.

“Why doesn't it surprise me. Such an egoist."

"What didn't he explain to me?"

The soldier sighed. "Did he never explain to you why he can't fight you?"

"Roughly a thousand times," Zoro grumbled unimpressed, "always something about that he could hurt and kill me. Some kind of excuse that he couldn't hold back."

Now Jiroushin smiled softly. "Well, to be honest, it's not an excuse, it's the truth. The reason you've never seen Hawky fight properly is because he almost never can."

This confused Zoro.

"Why shouldn't a swordsman want to fight?"

“Oh, it's not because he doesn't want to - believe me, he's yearning for a true fight - but he can't. Not as long as he doesn't have a real opponent with whom he can fight properly and use all his strength." 

"What? What do you mean by that?"

Zoro didn't understand a word. Of course, a strong opponent could spur one on; tease something out that wasn't there before, but one could fight otherwise. Even the little skirmishes against the cook could be fun without Zoro having to go all in. What kind of sad excuse was this?

Jiroushin watched him and then tilted his head slightly to the side.

"It's actually quite simple, you know. For Hawky, there are only two types of a fight, those worthy of his time and the others. Most opponents spark no interest, no fire. He can fight them without any problems – well, except for the problem that such fights usually bore him. Opponents who do not stir up his blood Mihawk fights without using even a fraction of his true power. I have fought him countless times, but I tell you, if the day ever comes for Mihawk to show his bloodlust to me, that day will be my death sentence."

"What are you talking about?" Zoro murmured, leaning against the back of the sofa. "Why would Mihawk want to kill you? Even if he enjoys a..."

"If Mihawk fights properly..." Jiroushin interrupted him but looked out of the window again. "... then it's no longer about fun, enjoyment. If Mihawk fights properly, there is no restraint, no control. Probably one of his attacks would be enough to kill me directly and I don't even want to talk about you."

Zoro stared at the soldier in dismay. The strength of which the other spoke did not really shock him; he hoped that the Shichibukai was so incredibly strong that it took one's breath away. But what worried him was the way Jiroushin talked about it.

"Does the term mental self-regulation tell you something, Roronoa Zoro?"

He shook his head.

"It's actually quite simple to explain. The human body has a lot of force, enough to break, for example, its own bones or jaw. Therefore, our brain limits the power of our muscles and prevents us from using all of it; regulates, for example how much force we need to lift an empty bucket so that we don't use as much as if trying to lift a horse. Do you understand that?"

Slowly, Zoro nodded. He had never heard of it, but it made sense. Of course, if he were to grab the cook’s plate with the same force he would grip his weights, he would pretty soon have a pretty annoying problem.

"Well, the thing is, if Mihawk starts fighting properly, then this mental self-regulation no longer exists." Slowly, the soldier turned to him. "In a real fight, a fight in which Mihawk’s bloodlust awakens, he loses the ability to control his attacks, even his blocks are as hard as attacks. Even though he doesn’t look like it, even though he's well aware of everything he's doing, he's completely losing control, a well-civilized, well-mannered maniac you could say.”

Jiroushin began to wander through the room again.

"To survive a real fight with Mihawk, you have to keep up with his raw, unrestricted power, and not many can. The red Shanks was one of the few. Although he is not a real swordsman, he too is able to put aside his mental self-regulation and fight with all his strength. But since he gave his arm for your captain, Mihawk has refused to fight him."

Zoro tried to understand what all this meant.

"There are not many people who manage to overcome this mental self-regulation, it usually requires a lot of training and both a high level of intelligence and concentration. Besides Shanks, I would only think of a handful of people, like Whitebeard or Gol D. Roger and Silvers Rayleigh." Even before Zoro could interrupt, the other continued: “They all have one thing in common, something that sets them apart from Hawky. They have all learned it as some kind of technique, just like you learned to use Haki or cell coating. Hawky, on the other hand, has never learned it, he just fights like that and that's why he's so incredibly dangerous."

Zoro was no longer sure if Jiroushin was still talking to him, as the other was staring only at the ground.

“To be honest, it's really scary to see him like that. He always says things like that he just wants to hurt his enemy a little bit, just a small cut, just one more strike, just enough to impress the other, but he never does just that. He can never hold back, he talks about just intimidating his opponent, but in the end, he kills them all mercilessly and painfully." Suddenly the soldier looked up again and stared at Zoro. "Are you really sure you want to become such a monster just to defeat Mihawk? Don't get me wrong, I don't care what happens to you, but Mihawk has taken a fancy to you and I don't know what will happen to him if he kills you. Nevertheless, I can't condone that he wants to make you a monster, losing control like this..."

"What are you talking about?" Zoro folded his arms while Jiroushin looked at him with big eyes. "So, you mean that in order to defeat Mihawk, I have to overcome this mental self-regulation or what the hell that was called?"

Jiroushin nodded: "Yes, but haven’t you listened to...?"

"And that's all?"

“What?”

Zoro tilted his head slightly.

“Well, it’s not that special, is it? It's just to release all the strength in the body until the muscles tear apart and you feel that just tightening your muscles is enough to break your own bone, isn't it?"

The Marine looked like he was about to throw up.

"You want to tell me you have overcome the mental self-regulation already?"

Zoro shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, it doesn't always work, but when the fight gets exciting enough... Of course, I want to win. And as I said, it's not that special now. Luffy does this regularly when he fights, I think even the stupid cook sometimes does it, no idea, his fights are mostly boring. But if that’s..."

"What the hell...?!" Jiroushin stared at him stunned. "You want to tell me that your captain, black-leg Sanji, and you have learned a technique that only the strongest and cleverest can do? You are far too weak for it!"

"Excuse me?" Zoro growled, taking a step forward. "What are you talking about technique and stuff? I don't think any of us have done that consciously or anything like that, at least I don't. If the opponent is stronger you just have to get stronger yourself. To be honest, I thought every fighter can do that."

Shaking his head, the blond turned away and started walking again.

"Monsters," he muttered, before suddenly pointing to Zoro, "you and these other two, you're real monsters!"

Quietly, Zoro shrugged his shoulders again.

"I know, as I said, you worry for nothing. We can take care of ourselves and if I'm honest, I can't wait to fight against Mihawk."

"What? Although I just told you..."

"That makes it even more exciting. All I have to do is control my power so that I don't go crazy again and get even stronger and then when I finally fight him, he will fight me with all his strength, with everything he has. He will not hold back; he will not spare me. It will be a life-and-death battle, either I am strong enough to defeat him or he will defeat me." In the background, the door opened and Perona came in with the food cart, but Zoro barely noticed her when he beamed at Jiroushin. "Why did you just tell me all this? Now I am even more impatient than before. I can't wait to fight him!"

The soldier eyed him suspiciously, but then he shook his head and laughed out loud.

"You're really some weird guy, Roronoa Zoro." Jiroushin looked at him. “But I have to admit that you just remind me a lot of Hawky. I think he would look forward to such a fight as well."

Now the soldier wandered over to the dinner table.

“Not that I could understand that. It is incomprehensible to me how one willingly wants to fight in a life and death matter and inflict painful injuries on each other. You're insane.”

Zoro followed the other to the table.

"But if you're really going for defeating Hawky, you still have to work a lot on your Busoshoku Hako."

"Yeah, I know. My armor must be stronger than Mihawk’s otherwise he will break my swords again."

"Or you break them yourself."

Surprised, Zoro looked up as he took his seat. Perona, diagonally opposite of him, rolled her eyes. Probably because they completely ignored her and talked about something, she couldn't have a say in. Jiroushin shrugged his shoulders and began to load tons of potatoes on his plate.

"Why do you think Hawky has Yuro? It is the strongest sword in the world and indestructible beyond. A normal sword would immediately break under Hawky's true power. Shank's sword is also extremely resistant, otherwise he could never use all his might; the risk of breaking a normal sword is simply too great."

Zoro reached for the rice balls.

"You have good swords, but they can't keep up with Yuro, even Josei can't. Of course, you need to harden them to protect them from Mihawk’s and Yuro's power, but don't forget that the stronger you get, the more power you use on your swords."

Thoughtfully, Jiroushin looked over to Zoro's swords.

"It's almost a small miracle that you haven't destroyed them yourself yet."

Zoro pondered what the other was talking about. He had often felt that he had overcome this strange _mental self-regulation_ or whatever that was called, to defeat his opponent – the first time against Mr. One, if he was honest. But he had never felt that he would endanger his swords. Even in the toughest fight, they had never complained.

"Jiroushin." The soldier looked at him with raised eyebrows. "After the meal, I will transform myself. Can we train then?"

"I've already told you that I will not..."

"I know, but I'm fine, I recover quickly, but we only have a few days until Mihawk is back and I want to get stronger. Besides, it's just a matter of learning to distinguish the different Haki, it's not necessarily physically exhausting."

The soldier seriously eyed him as he feasted on his potatoes.

"You're really strongminded. We fought almost the whole day yesterday and this morning you couldn't even move and now you want to go on again? At some point you have to take a break."

Unimpressed, Zoro raised an eyebrow.

"Say, how old is Mihawk?"

"He turned 42 in March, why?"

Zoro nodded thoughtfully.

"And do you think he's at the peak of his strength at the moment or has he been stronger?"

He could see Jiroushin watching him suspiciously as he placed his fork next to the empty plate.

"What’s your point, Roronoa Zoro?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Zoro took the next rice ball.

“Obviously I'm twenty years younger than him. We're all getting older and at some point Mihawk will start to get weaker. Not overnight, of course, but at some point his power will decrease, like with Rayleigh. Of course, he is becoming more and more experienced and will probably be outstanding even in old age, but I don't want to wait until he is old and grey. I want to defeat him while he is still at the peak of his power."

Perona eyed him and Jiroushin with big eyes, but did not say a word, but excitedly stuffed the fried mushrooms into her mouth. Jiroushin, on the other hand, had his arms folded and examined Zoro with a serious facial expression, but Zoro did not let himself be disturbed by it as he took the last rice ball. Then he saw the soldier grin slightly.

“It's weird. You are so similar and yet so different."

Zoro said nothing. He didn't care how much he resembled the Shichibukai or not, after all, he wanted to surpass him.

Jiroushin sighed.

"Well, fine, for all I care. But we're just doing a bit of theory today and trying it out, okay? Hawky doesn't want you to accidentally go berserk while he's not here, so we want to avoid you absorbing too much Haki, understood?"

Zoro just nodded. He had achieved what he wanted, they would continue to train, he was happy with that. The main thing was that he could get better. After what Jiroushin had told him, the desire in him to finally fight Mihawk had grown. Of course, he still had a few years before Mihawk would lose strength, but he didn't know if he could wait that long.

If he could, he would challenge him right now.


	44. Chapter 40 - Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there,
> 
> wow, it's already time again for a new chapter. Now that Mihawk is out of the way, what do you expect will happen? And what do you think will happen during Mihawk's journey? Some answers we will get today... some not^^'
> 
> So I hope you will enjoy it ;-) Have a great weekend and see you monday!

Chapter 40 - Scars

-Zoro-

"Geez, you run quite fast!" Zoro slowed down as Jiroushin huffed beside him. "I thought these laps were more about getting used to it."

Zoro did not respond but shrugged his shoulders as they continued to run. Unlike Mihawk, who preferred to spend the early morning hours sleeping, Jiroushin had insisted on accompanying Zoro during his warm-up ritual. 

On the one hand, the soldier had wanted to observe him a little more in order to be able to assess his development better, and on the other hand, Jiroushin had always followed the motto that a good teacher had to sweat at least as much as the student in a unit. And Jiroushin has just followed this requirement excellently. Although they hadn't even finished the twentieth round, he seemed to lose his excitement.

"How many laps do you usually do?"

"It depends," Zoro grumbled. He didn't like to talk when he had hardened his whole body, it always felt so scratchy in his throat. "I have to be careful that the power difference doesn't get any bigger, so I usually do more laps in this form, around 50."

“What?!”

"Yes, as I said, you don't need to run with me, Mihawk never does. It’s too bothersome for him."

"It’s alright, I just didn't think my shape would suffer that much because of some desk work. Luckily Hawky isn't here, he'd just laugh at me.”

Zoro did not respond. Fighting Jiroushin he had realized for the first time how good he had become, and here too Zoro had, if at all, the Shichibukai as a comparison, who had never sacrificed even a pearl of sweat.

It wasn't that Zoro wasn't sweating - he was always sweating very fast - but for several weeks this training was no longer serving his physical exhaustion, but only as a mere preparation, even in this body he slowly began to relax.

Last night he and Jiroushin had begun to put Mihawk's task into action and had noticed something very quickly: As long as Zoro was able to take in and give up foreign Haki in peace, he had no problem with it at all – probably that's why there had been no problems with the sponge exercise back then – but as soon as a little movement came in, it got difficult.

Jiroushin had finished the training pretty quickly; had not been persuaded to fight Zoro again yesterday. But today, today, they would fight, because only in this way could Zoro learn to save his own Haki and only use the Haki that he would take from Jiroushin.

At the same time, however, it also meant that if he did not do it right, he would again run the risk of losing control, and Jiroushin definitely wanted to prevent that until Mihawk was back.

Silently, they ran side by side. It really wasn't like it used to be.

Yes, Jiroushin was still talkative and yes Zoro felt almost as comfortable with him as with his crew or with Mihawk, but it was clearly not like it had been more than half a year ago on Sasaki. The soldier was no longer so ingenuous when talking, chose his words more careful and at meals he chatted mainly with Perona about plants and herbs, spoke to Zoro only when it concerned training or Mihawk.

Not that it really bothered Zoro, he liked his quietness, and when the exhausting Perona talked to Jiroushin about the revival of the farm garden behind the castle, she at least left him in peace.

But somehow it bothered him that the otherwise so good-humored, almost hilarious, and happy Marine now often looked serious and disapproving. Of course, Zoro knew that Jiroushin was right to be anything but in a good-willing towards him, and in fact he had always been indifferent to a tense mood.

But sighing, Zoro admitted that he had become accustomed to the serene atmosphere on Kuraigana, to the consensual, pleasant silence between him and the Shichibukai, which was only sometimes interrupted by Perona. Only now did Zoro understand that he felt comfortable on this island and somehow, he just didn't want this strange harmony to be disturbed by anything.

It was strange, actually, changes were indifferent to him, and actually something like that didn't affect him at all. In fact, however, it bothered him. Things had changed, but nothing else changed on Kuraigana, after all, Mihawk hated change.

However, Zoro had not exactly jumped in the air with happiness, when Robin had joined the crew, there had also been a lot of tension at the beginning and also there he had accepted the changes rather annoyed than generous.

When they got into the next lap, Zoro decided to discard those thoughts, as they wouldn't take him any further anyway, and to focus on training.

They should run a few more laps before they could move on to the right training. Of course, Zoro had to transform and change beforehand, which Jiroushin used to quickly call his wife - which was why Zoro had to wait almost half an hour for him - but at some point they had finally found themselves at the ruins and started training.

-Mihawk-

Boredom!

When had been the last time he had been on the road and got so bored? He could not recall. It was true that he sometimes undertook small assignments for the World Government, had to go to Sasaki for short organizational discussions or had not been present every day at Roronoa's training for other reasons.

But the knowledge that it was not even the first day of a seven-day trip, and Roronoa trained with Jiroushin without him while he sat here and watched the sky...

Mihawk would prefer to turn around right now. If he were to return home now, he could reach Kuraigana in the early hours of the morning. But what would that look like if he were to turn back now?

He could already hear Jiroushin and Roronoa making fun of him, not wanting to understand his concern and doubts.

There was only one reason for Mihawk to make this journey, to explain once and for all to his father that he was no part in his life. Gat did not need to send Nataku or anyone else after him. It was of no concern to Gat whatever Mihawk decided to do with his life and what not. The old man had forfeited this right when he had left Mihawk behind as a little boy.

The only meaningful thing he could hope for from this annoying journey was that both Gat and Nataku would back off from Roronoa, even if he had to lose everything else. The islands would somehow be protected by Jiroushin, and Mihawk had given up his title on the day Nataku had tried to kill Roronoa because of him. He still obeyed the call of the World Government, but only as long as it was still useful to him.

No, although he still believed that he was one of the few who actually earned the title of a Shichibukai – the government dogs – both by strength and intelligence, he had long since lost interest in it. His interest was only Roronoa, Roronoa and his selfish dream.

He looked at the sky with a sigh. He knew that neither such thoughts nor such actions were appropriate for someone like him. Worrying about an uneducated brat from the East Blue. To subordinate his whole damn life to the good of this boy. It gnawed not only at his pride as a nobleman, as a Shichibukai, as a swordsman. It humiliated him not only as a Dracule and as a Hawk Eyes, no, it was much worse.

"I am like Shanks."

He rubbed his face with both hands. He could never again face that bastard.

How could it be? They came from different worlds, other origins, other upbringing, other manners, other resumes. They were like day and night. One the honorable son of a sublime noble family, the other some nobody from an unnamed village. One educated and master of his art, the other coarse and a lover of the beautiful and cheap. One selfish and vain, the other selfless and friendly. But for all their differences, they were now, in the end, the same.

Mihawk had never understood why Shanks had sacrificed his arm for some child - much more, he had never understood why Shanks had to sacrifice this arm in the first place given his strength – although he had always quietly believed that Shanks had only done this in order to stop fighting against him.

But now he knew better, now he knew these emotions that clouded the mind, and now he knew that he was willing to sacrifice much more than just one arm.

"However," he muttered, looking at his left hand, "I will probably have to wait with such selfless deeds until Roronoa defeats me. After all, I don't want to disappoint him as much as you did to me back then."

Mihawk had always known that he was selfish and self-involved. Two attributes that were mostly negatively loaded, but he actually liked them. He had been proud to care for nothing but himself. But it was not as if he was neglecting these character traits for Roronoa, no, it certainly was not like that.

It was simply that Roronoa, consciously or not, influenced his happiness above average, so Mihawk would continue to do everything to stay satisfied, as simple as it was. But of course it was not that simple...

-Zoro-

Exhausted, he let himself sink to one knee, rubbed his forearm over his forehead and face.

"Well!" He heard Jiroushin, and when he looked up, the no less panting soldier pointed at him with his index finger outstretched as sweat dripped down his sleeve. "If you hadn't done so many laps you would be better off now. Do you regret it?"

Zoro rose with a grin.

"Do you think I would go down that easily? I'm not one of your third-rate cadets. This is little more than a better warm-up for me."

The blond laughed but stopped when Zoro ripped down his already badly damaged shirt and threw it next to the green coat he had taken off at the start of their fight.

"So that's it," Jiroushin muttered, almost humbly, "the scar."

Unconsciously, Zoro brushed over the scarred skin of his left collarbone. Then he rubbed his neck, tried not even to hide his grin.

"It is rare to see anyone who survived a direct attack by Hawky. You have to be very proud of this scar." Zoro was surprised that the peaceful warrior understood him. "Hawky at least respects it very much, at the same time it is a sign of his respect for you. I've never seen him leave a challenger alive. What's more, this scar is your promise that one day you will mark him as well."

"You know a lot about this scar."

Zoro went back into combat position, but Jiroushin waved off as he dropped to the ground.

"Of course, do you think I wouldn't remember when my captain called me after almost four years on his own accord just to tell me about some insignificant pirate hunter from the East Blue?"

Jiroushin looked at him from the side and shrugged his shoulders.

"I know everything about you that there is to know. For hours Mihawk talked about you and asked me again and again to get information about you, he even visited the red Shanks, only in hope that he might know you. Of course, I know what this scar means. But it's pretty daring to think you could inflict such a scar on Hawky. Believe me, in all his fights he hasn't earned a single one."

Zoro grumpily folded his arms. "I know he showed me," he murmured, tilting his head and remembering the flawless skin of his teacher’s chest. “But to be honest, I don't really care right now. Let's move on."

The soldier waved off again. "I think it's enough for today."

"What?" Zoro growled, stepping towards the blond. It may have been that this guy was Mihawk's best friend and even more than that, but if he wanted to stop now, Zoro would have to give him some reason. “The sun has just set, and you said yesterday that we would fight today until I couldn't stand anymore. I’m still standing, so we'll keep fighting.”

Jiroushin rolled his eyes.

"I only said that because you really wanted to keep training yesterday. It is unhealthy to fight every day until complete exhaustion..."

"I don't care!" The soldier looked at him with big eyes, but Zoro stared back coolly. "I've been through this with Mihawk many times and I don't have the time to discuss the same thing with you."

Jiroushin rose clumsily. "Well, listen, you can't..."

"I'm not some novice like your cadets, got it? It's not enough for me to be some average swordfighter. I want to defeat Mihawk and preferably before he starts cracking his bones due to age."

"I understand that, but..."

"Really?" Zoro had no problem interrupting the other, and he noted that this surprised the blond. He respected Jiroushin, the peaceful warrior, fifth best swordsman in the world, former vice-captain of Hawk Eyes, and Mihawk's best friend since childhood. He relied on Mihawk's judgment that Jiroushin could help him get better, but Zoro wouldn't let neither Mihawk’s annoying worries nor Jiroushin's concerns slow him down. “Don't get me wrong, but I doubt you can really understand it. So, you probably can't understand why I can't take it slowly, won’t take my time..."

"You're pretty rude." With his arms folded, the soldier straightened up and now looked down to Zoro. "I may lack your and Hawky's fighting spirit, but don't underestimate me, Roronoa Zoro, otherwise you'll regret it."

It was not a serious threat and yet the Vice Admiral seemed anything but friendly.

"I understand how your mind works. You're not particularly hard to read, not for someone who knows Mihawk as long as I do."

Zoro kept a straight face, though he was slightly angry. It wasn't that he wanted to come across as _mysterious,_ as Robin and Mihawk liked to do, yet he didn't like to be described as easy to read.

"I understand that you are demanding a lot from yourself," Jiroushin continued. "You are merciless, cruel, almost more to yourself than to your opponents. I am well aware of this - as I said, I have had to get a lot of information about you - and I'm also aware that you want to prove a lot not only to yourself but also to Hawky and therefore want to get the most out of these two weeks here."

Slowly Zoro understood why this guy was a coveted teacher within the rows of the Marines, he was really a bright head, probably smarter than Zoro could even grasp. But this were not the Marines and he was no ordinary student.

"However, I think you’re wrong for going too often beyond the limits that your body shows you. Especially in training when it doesn't have to be. In addition..." The Vice Admiral spoke directly and raised a hand to interrupt Zoro as he opened his mouth. "In addition, you have already understood the principle. The only thing you're missing is simple experience and it's going to come with time. But we are not talking about two weeks, but months, years. Just as your Haki skills become more and more self-evident over time, this as well will become easier for you over time."

Slightly confused, Zoro bowed his head.

"How do you mean that?" He asked suspiciously.

It was true that as the day had progressed, he had become better and better with keeping an eye out for which of the two Hakis he was using in his body. A few hours ago they had even started with light standard combat exercises, but it was exhausting for him. It was hard for him to focus on everything at the same time. Which Haki he took to use both Kenbunshoku and Busoshoku Haki and then absolving the basic combat movements as flawlessly as possible and absorbing Jiroushin’s Haki with the half-second, in which their bamboo sticks touched.

It was exhausting and although Zoro had not reached his limits physically, he was exhausted. He had to get better; he wasn't allowed to get defeated by that.

Now Jiroushin shook his head before smiling slightly.

"It's perfectly normal that you're exhausted, Roronoa Zoro. You have to pay attention to many things at the same time. The standard exercises may be second nature to you, but you are a newcomer to the field of Haki application. Many who have only been training Haki as recently as you would be overwhelmed to use both variations at the same time, but you additionally have to absorb Haki and decide every second which Haki you use. To complete so many tasks at once would overwhelm everyone at first. But over time it will become a habit for you. Just as you used to have to pay attention to each muscle, every part of your body, and your balance in these simple standard exercises when you were young, and now those things are a matter of course for you."

Jiroushin shrugged.

"I don't know what you want from me, to be honest. My job was to teach you to distinguish which Haki you can use during a fight until Hawky is back. It didn't take us a day, but you can. All you're missing now is practice and you won't get that today. You are already mentally very exhausted and if we continue to train now you will just be unfocused and then you will make mistakes. So, you achieved what your teacher demanded, and I would suggest we call it a day."

"No." Shaking his head, Zoro went back into combat position.

"What's your problem?" Jiroushin grumbled, throwing both hands in the air. "We still have almost two weeks left, and you have already achieved the goal for this time today. What else do you want?"

Now Zoro grinned.

"I want to fight you."

“What?”

"Yes, of course, yesterday you said we were going to fight today, _fight properly,_ not those few basic steps back and forward. Maybe I'm exhausted, maybe I'm making mistakes now. But then it's your job to correct me, isn't it?"

Jiroushin looked at him almost expressionlessly.

"I don't care if I've already done Mihawk's _homework_ or not. That is not what I am about. I want to be as good as possible within the time I have. I know that Mihawk will teach me how to control this condition - when I go crazy - so I have to master everything else as well as I can by then. You say, I ‘m just missing the practice for that; I say, let's practice."

For a few seconds, the soldier did not react at all, but then he nodded, pulled the bamboo stick out of his boot and also went into combat position.

"Well, I know people like you. Then reap the fruits of your stubbornness. You want to fight, so we fight. For every mistake you make, you'll run ten more rounds tomorrow morning. Let's see how long you keep barking."

Zoro's grin grew.

"Bold of you to believe that something like this would intimidate me and not spur me on."

Instead of answering, Jiroushin attacked.

It was a fight Zoro liked. If he had suffered headaches before, they quickly disappeared into the fever of battle. It was difficult and yes Zoro made mistakes, but it was also a lot of fun and he realized that he was already better today than in his last fight against the Vice Admiral two days ago.

Jiroushin, too, seemed to like this tutoring session. He clearly enjoyed letting Zoro pay for every gap in his defense, every second-rate attack, and every other mistake, but not even once Zoro's bamboo broke.

Over time, the rational lesson became an almost friendly exchange of blows. While Zoro kissed the ground again, Jiroushin laughed and teased him, but Zoro was only too happy to get even when he dodged through the iron defense of the Vice Admiral or simply tore it down by brute force.

Unexpectedly, their fight ended when Zoro ripped the bamboo out of the blond's hand and it bounced against an overturned ruin and splintered. Surprised, both swordsmen looked at each other before Jiroushin nodded appreciatively.

"Maybe I have to apologize to Hawky. You're a little more talented than I wanted to admit."

Zoro did not respond, but this was mainly because he was too busy to keep breathing. Their last exchange of blows had pushed him to the limits of his abilities, not only in terms of Haki, but also his fighting skills. It may be that Zoro would soon surpass the man in front of him, but he wouldn't be able to catch up so quickly with decades of experience.

"Are you now agreeing that we will end training for today?"

Nodding, Zoro fell to his knees, leaning off the ground with both hands. A dull _plop_ meant that Jiroushin had also fallen to the ground.

"You're unbelievable," the Vice Admiral snorted, "you can't help but give everything in every fight. That's why you're even improving in the middle of it, right?"

Zoro shrugged his shoulders and put himself in an upright kneeling position to watch the other. Fortunately, Jiroushin looked no less exhausted. The elder smiled at Zoro, just as he had grinned back then at Sasaki.

"You are an idiot. You know this is just training, right? And tomorrow you'll have to run 70 laps more in addition to your 50. If I look at you right now, I think I will have a day off tomorrow."

Laughing quietly, Zoro slipped on his butt to sit more comfortably.

"Don't worry, I'll challenge you tomorrow as well."

Jiroushin raised only an eyebrow before leaning against a large stone and folded his arms.

"Fine with me."

They fell silent as they both re-energized.

With the tip of his foot, Zoro kicked aside his bamboo.

"I wonder how long Mihawk will keep me from fighting with my swords," he murmured more to himself than to the soldier.

"Probably until you can control your madness," Jiroushin speculated. "Although I assume that your Busoshoku Haki should soon be steady enough to try out some real swords."

Apparently delighted, the soldier laughed.

"Oh, my God, don't look at me like that. You just learn fast, okay? If you've become more confident in what Haki you are using, I don’t mind giving it a try with actual weapons."

"Really?"

Perhaps Zoro would come to enjoy the fact that his strict but over-concerned teacher was gone for a few days. Again, Jiroushin laughed.

"Unbelievable, now I see the similarity between you and Loreen, if you amuse me like that."

Blushing, Zoro tried to bring his facial features back under control.

"Although I'm also curious to see what Hawky has planned," Jiroushin muttered. "You don't see such a mania every day."

A little more relaxed, Zoro rose and began to stretch to prevent muscle soreness.

"What would you do?" He asked curiously. Mihawk had been rather inaccurate in his statements. Zoro had until recently thought that _controlling_ would mean that he would no longer reach this strange state; now he knew that he was going to reach it, but without losing his mind. Yet the Shichibukai had not really revealed exactly how this should be done.

Jiroushin scratched the back of his head.

"Well, you're just a weird case. But I'd be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.” The blond got up and began to stretch with Zoro. "I don't like the way it happened during our fight, absorbing tons of foreign Haki at first and then spending your own until you reached this state. It's harder to control and therefore more dangerous for you."

Confused, Zoro straightened up. "I don't understand that."

Jiroushin nodded. "In order to learn how to control this state, you must be able to consciously bring it about. But I don't mean what happened in our fight. That was far too inaccurate. I would like to determine exactly when you lose control and then stay with you at that verge."

"What verge?"

They looked at each other.

"The verge at which the foreign Haki becomes stronger than your own and your body decides to take over control to save you."

"But why?" Zoro muttered. "Mihawk said I have to be a monster. But you said I just had to overcome mental self-regulation. I thought it would be the same."

Shaking his head, Jiroushin stretched his shoulders.

"No, they are probably two sides of the same coin, but you'll still need both to stand up to Mihawk, I agree with him. If you can control that state, you will be able to unfold all the forces in your body at once, along with overcoming mental self-regulation, you can even surpass the limits of your own body, just like Mihawk does. But the longer this condition lasts, the more severe the consequences will be for your body. You've already noticed how much it only burdens you for half a minute."

Zoro did not respond.

"I think I'd let you spend some Haki first and then we'd approach the verge in small steps, that would be much safer than what we've seen during the fight and if you're in danger of losing control, you're just giving away some of the foreign Haki. Yes, I think that's how I'd do it."

Again, they remained silent for quite a while and carried out their stretching in a mutual silent.

"You are quite silent, Roronoa Zoro. You dislike my idea, don’t you? Probably far too save in relation to what Hawky is up to."

Zoro only snorted quietly. It wasn't as if Mihawk willingly took risks as long as it was about Zoro.

"It's not," he grumbled, after all, he didn't even know what the Shichibukai's plan was. "But couldn't you stop talking to me as if you were reading the accusation? I know my name, don't worry.”

"Tze." Jiroushin straightened up and placed both hands at his hips. "What should I do then? Hawky got pretty angry when I called you by your last name."

Zoro shrugged.

"Well? That’s his problem, isn't it? I know you can't really stand me, but it's really annoying, okay? Can't you just call me Zoro, like everyone else I've exchanged a few sentences with?"

Now Zoro also got up and they looked at the other.

"Hawky doesn't call you Zoro?"

"Yeah, that guy’s nuts."

Sighing, the soldier turned and walked over to his sword.

"Well, for all I care. It’s Zoro, then. But that doesn't make us friends, understand?"

Defending, Zoro raised both arms and collected his scattered clothes, before following the Vice Admiral to the castle.

"Say," Zoro muttered behind the soldier, "can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" Jiroushin's curls swayed wildly as he turned to him.

"If I get a little more experienced during the next few days, would you try it with me?"

The soldier stopped and looked at him suspiciously. "What should I try with you?"

"Your method. Mihawk hasn't explained to me at all what he's up to and I'm..."

"Definitely not!" Jiroushin continued his way. "Are you mad? Hawky would go crazy if anything went wrong."

Zoro hurried to follow the soldier.

"But..."

"No buts! What an insane idea."

“Jiroushin…”

At the gate, the Vice Admiral suddenly stopped and Zoro almost ran into him.

"I don't think you've yet understood what's at stake here." Jiroushin turned to him, he seemed far too serious for his otherwise friendly face. "Are you aware of what kind of situation we are in here? I commit treason because of you and Mihawk has entrusted your life to me."

"What the..."

"My honor requires me to kill you right here and now, but at the same time I have to use my life to prevent something from happening to you. I'm not going to do experiments with you that could put you at risk, only to then blame me of destroying my best friend's life. We will never be friends because you have taken the lives of countless of my comrades and you should be my nemesis."

The Vice Admiral sighed deeply, and when he looked at Zoro, a gentle smile almost crept over his lips.

"From the depths of my heart, I really, really want to hate you. I wish I couldn't care what happens to you. Then we could try out my idea, then I wouldn’t care if you would fail. But the fact is..."

"That this bastard of a Shichibukai has _taken a fancy at me_ and that you are friends, so you have to care if I bite the dust or not," Zoro concluded the other's sentence, unsure what this situation was about, but even more annoyed that the soldier used the arduous care of his dramatic teacher as an excuse.

Nodding, Jiroushin opened the door and stepped in.

"Exactly, that and..." The soldier laughed quietly. “And the little thing that I just cannot not stand you, no matter how much I try.”

"What?" Double negative was not Zoro's strength.

"But as I said, we are not friends, understood, Zoro?"

Eye-rolling, he followed the elder.

"Oh man, you're really too complicated for me. Almost worse than Mihawk."

"Well, welcome to the adult world. Not all of us can do what we want. We have commitments and sometimes they conflict with our personal desires."

In the meantime, they walked down the stairs to a long hallway of chambers.

"Whatever you want to say with that." Zoro grumbled slightly and wiped his sweaty shoulders with his tattered shirt as he reached his room. "My only desire right now is a hot shower."

Jiroushin gave him a thumbs up as he walked down the hallway.

"Good idea. Mine is already calling. But hey, wait." The soldier swirled towards Zoro while already pulling his own shirt down. “You might want to take a bath, so your muscles don't tense up too much and think about eating something healthy. By that I don't just mean rice and seaweed, understood?"

"How do you think I survived the last twenty years?"

The blond shrugged his shoulders, a neat grin on his face. Then he did the same as Zoro and rubbed the sweat from his body with his shirt.

"Go to sleep early. You've got to run a few laps tomorrow, so we'll start two hours before sunrise, this way we'll have enough time for the real fight after that."

"As you command, Master." Zoro bowed excessively and then said goodbye with a wink.

But as soon as the door closed in his back, his grin disappeared.

_It is not my body that is covered in scars._

Apparently, he had misunderstood Mihawk's words back then.

_I've never seen him leave an opponent alive._

Suddenly, Zoro understood the background of the fighting shadow, why Mihawk had almost never fought against opponents himself as a pirate back then but had left Jiroushin to take care of them.

Slowly Zoro got quite hot. What kind of opponent had he found?


	45. Chapter 41 - Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so today we gonna join Mihawk on his journey and meet somebody from his past (and yes, I know you already know, who this is, just let me have my fun^^')
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it and thank you all for your kind words^^
> 
> See you friday ;-)

Chapter 41 - Names

-Mihawk-

"Good morning, your Lor... But please wait... You can't just..."

"Out of my way."

"I beg you, your Lordship, this is the..."

Mihawk opened the door. The nurses and soldiers who had tried to stop him, as well as the people within the room, all froze as he entered.

But his gaze was placed on the pale man, who sat in an equally white bed in a white robe. The once full raven-black hair was sparse and grey, the once carefully combed and twirled moustache was replaced by a rough multi-day beard, the once cool dark eyes were dull and yellowed, the once muscular and stiff body was haggard and gaunt.

So this was supposed to be the once-respected Vice Admiral, a defender of justice and a former contender for becoming the next Fleet Admiral? Well, such golden times had passed almost thirty years ago, before that man had lost wife and daughter, as well as pride and dignity.

Dracule Gat was a shadow of his former self and Mihawk had no regrets about not seeing him for years. It was below him to witness such a pitiful decline. This man was a disgrace to his mother's name.

"My son." Even his voice had nothing of the former authority, of the undisputed respect that this man had instilled on Mihawk in his childhood. It resented Mihawk that this man's blood flowed through his veins.

"Leave the room."

All those present, doctors, nurses, soldiers, bowed to Mihawk's order, leaving him and the man in bed alone. He showed an almost honest smile. At least Mihawk suspected that this was his real smile, but he could not be certain, after all, he only knew the false smile of his father, which he had too gladly shown his guests.

"So, you came. I had not dared to hope..."

"Your hope is in vain. I am just tired of you sending your dog after me.”

With his arms folded, Mihawk walked through the room.

"Believe me, my son, would I be in a state of being able to travel, or if you were in a state of mind that I could have contacted you, I would not have had to burden Nataku with..."

"I did not come here to talk about this hound dog, just to tell you to stay out of my affairs."

"My son, I beg you, could we at least..."

"Just because your blood flows through my veins, it does not mean I am your son. I lack the time to waste for a conversation full of small talk and hypocritical courtesy, is that clear enough?"

Now he stood right in front of the old man's hospital bed, wondering if only the tons of alcohol were responsible or whether this man was the likeness of his own future. His father sighed heavily and leaned against the raised headboard.

"Yes, that was very clear," Gat replied, looking at him with his pathetic tired eyes, "but if this is to be the last conversation we are going to have, could you please at least sacrifice a few minutes?"

For a moment they both remained silent, then Mihawk clicked his tongue and raised both hands. With long steps he approached the visitor's chair and sat down, crossing his legs.

"Well. After wasting so many useless days I can probably waste few more minutes of insignificant exchange. What do you want to talk about?"

"Too kind," the old man muttered, laughing hollowly. Even the laughter was alien to Mihawk but reminded him of the false laughter when guests had visited. "It has been a long time since we talked to each other. How have you been, my son?"

"Better after I leave this base behind."

"Could you at least maintain the farce as if you were trying to have this conversation? Since you are unwilling to show me the respect I deserve as your father."

Simultaneously, they clicked their tongues, dissatisfied with the course of the conversation, and incomprehensible about the respective behavior.

"Nataku says you are dying, but for a dead man you are talking quite a lot in my opinion."

The old man laughed softly.

"And you speak quite unbridled for the education I have given you. I cannot remember ever condoning such disrespectful behavior.”

"Oh, my dear Lord Father, you forfeited this respect long time ago and I am too relenting to forget."

Cold they looked at each other, then Gat raised a hand giving in.

"As you wish. Who am I to rebuke the rightful heir of the Dracule family?"

"Yes, who are you indeed?"

The old man's false smile froze for a fraction of a second, but he was too well-educated in political machinations to let it be noted for longer.

“Anyway, no, I am not dying, even if it may disappoint you. My body no longer works as it should, but it still works. Soon I will be better, and I will at least be able to resume my advisory and supervisory activities."

Mihawk did not respond.

"But you do not care, do you?"

"Why should I feel sorry for a fool who had the folly to ruin his own body like you did?"

"When I feel better," Gat continued, as if Mihawk's words did not bother him, "then I would love to meet Lady Loreen."

"And I will prevent this by all means."

Now for the first time, the old Vice Admiral openly showed an almost sadly surprised facial expression.

"Do you hate me that much?"

Mihawk smiled coolly. "Oh please, you are not significant enough for me to waste any kind of emotion on you. And while we are already at, I think I have wasted enough time on this pointless conversation. So, I will now come to the real reason for my visit."

He rose.

"As you wish," replied the old man, straightening his back, a faint reminder of his time as a simple cadet.

"I came here to make it clear that neither you nor Nataku have any say in my life, and if you send him after me again, I will take the liberty to make him pay."

"My son, is that not...?"

"None of you are welcome to me, have I made myself understandable? I have no interest in whether you live or die, and if that is supposed to cost me my legacy, so be it.”

Gat just looked at him for a few seconds before nodding: "Although I deeply regret the development, we both know that I cannot withhold from you what is rightfully yours. I only married into this family, but you are a true Dracule. After Taruchie’s and Sharak’s death, the last one. I was just the official administrator of the islands until you turned twenty, since that day you are Lord of the islands and there is nothing, I could do about it."

"I have no interest in the islands. If you or Nataku want them, I do not care."

Now the old man shook his head.

"It is sad how little your name - your mother's name - means to you. Offering your heritage like an old horse. Ignoring our differences, I always thought you were proud to be a Dracule."

With his arms crossed, Mihawk turned to the window.

"Maybe I have come to realize that there are more important things than a few randomly arranged letters."

"That is hard for me to believe. Is your strange change of heart due to this Lady Loreen?"

He did not respond, but looked at the courtyard of the fortress, where several hundred cadets practiced swordfighting more badly than right. It hurt his eyes to see them waving the heavy metal lumps through the air like barbarians waving their clubs.

"I must confess that at the beginning, when I heard about this Lady Loreen, I feared that she was only interested in you because of your name and heritage."

"Like Nataku?" Mihawk commented disparagingly.

"Well, a nice girl that knows how to behave. I heard she works now with Rishou Eizen, while still being almost a child, and your social intelligence has always been somewhat lacking. There was every reason for me to be suspicious of her motives."

"Because it is so absurd that somebody could just value me for who I am, right?"

"Do not put words in my mouth, my son. Whether it suits you or not, you do not really try to be liked by others. But yes, I have to admit that I am slowly hoping that she will stay with you for your sake."

Now Mihawk was silent again.

"Because whether you believe it or not, even if you could not care less, I would very much like you to be happy, to settle down, and maybe even have children, and if this girl can show you this way, help you follow the right path, then I am deeply grateful to her."

With a smile, Mihawk turned away from the unfortunate attempts of fighting.

"You misunderstand the signs. I have no intend to follow the right path, more than ever I am ready to burst my chains when only the right time will come." He walked through the room but stopped. “Besides, I will never have children. Unlike you, I think it would be better for this world if not every idiot insisted on reproducing."

"You intent to let the House of Dracule die with you?"

He did not turn around.

"The House of Dracule has gone extinct a long time ago; when they became Celestial Dragons, they died out, and when Yakumo left them, he put the final nail in the coffin."

"What a sad excuse for a man of your status. Once again, I would like to oppose you. Despite all that has happened, despite all the mistakes I have made, I have never regretted being a father."

Mihawk laughed quietly, looked at the door in front of him.

"As if you had ever been a real father."

"I do not want to be offended by you any longer, instead I ask you for one answer before you will end this conversation."

With his eyebrow raised, Mihawk turned to the old man in bed.

"If I understand it correctly, you are about to give up your title as a Shichibukai and thus become a persecuted lawless again. At the same time, however, you offer this Lady Loreen home and protection. Do you even care what you would do to her with this decision?"

Mihawk could not stop a smile.

"Again, you misunderstand. My young companion is probably the reason why I am willing to change things."

For the first time, the man in bed actually reminded Mihawk of his father from his childhood. His dark, yellowed eyes were curious, almost glittering with interest and seriousness. Frowning he leaned forward so far he threatened to fall out of his bed.

"Then allow me to ask one last question to you as your father."

Mihawk remained silent and gave his silent consent.

"Are you happy with Lady Loreen by your side?"

This question surprised Mihawk. He had reckoned everything, every accusation, every request, every complaint, but everything in him was reluctant to confuse this question with honest interest.

"You need quite a long time to answer this simple question."

Shaking his head, Mihawk decided that nothing he would say to this man would be dangerous for him. Slowly he turned around and allowed himself to smile honestly for the first time.

"Tze, what a sentimental foolishness."

"Is that a yes?"

“It is what it is. I do not care for such mawkishness, but if you ask me if I am placing something above my own selfishness for the first time in my life, then yes, I do."

The man in bed smiled head-shaking before he clumsily got up, despite his emaciated condition he still stood tall and straight, was almost at eye level with Mihawk when he stood in front of him and put a bony hand on his shoulder.

"That makes me very happy, my son. It makes me very happy to know that you have found someone in this cruel and lonely world who takes you for who you are, for whom you want to act selflessly."

Apparently, men got soft in old age. Mihawk could not remember his father ever saying anything kind to him. It actually surpassed his ninth birthday when he and his father had attended a meeting on Mary Joa as the only non-world nobles, and when they had left his father had claimed that the two of them had been by far the smartest in the room.

"Do you know that I asked Sharak the same thing back then?"

He easily withstood these yellowed eyes, forgot the past, and did not allow any sentimental thought to take place.

"It also took her an unusually long time to answer, and if you smile like that, I can see her in you."

Mihawk brushed off his hand.

"I have wasted enough minutes; it is time for me to go."

"Thank you for coming."

He walked silently to the door, but there he stopped.

"I also do have a question for you," he said, looking back to the old man who was settling down on his bed again. "What does the name Roronoa tell you?"

Quietly, Gat laughed and shook his head.

"The name of an insignificant swordsman from the East Blue."

He coolly looked at the old man.

"But you probably did not mean that, did you?" His father folded his arms. "So, you combed through my library and found my records."

Mihawk did not respond. He did not know what his father was talking about, but apparently, he did have the right feeling. His father had always been a bookworm. Too wise for a Marine, too wealthy for a scholar. Since seeing the connection between Roronoa and the books, Mihawk had suspected that his father might know something, almost nothing more than a shot in the dark.

"Does it have anything to do with the true history? The void century?"

"Be no fool, my son. Any knowledge of that time is strictly forbidden and just trying to read the runes of the old times could cost your head. Did the fate of the devils of Ohara teach you nothing? As a man of the Marine and a defender of justice, I would never dare to oppose such an order."

"But you talked about your records. So..."

“I doubt it would be wise if you would try to decipher them. Some knowledge should be buried, trust me. It is better if the name Roronoa is nothing more than the name of an insignificant nobody from the East Blue."

That was answer enough for Mihawk to leave. At the door, however, the old man's words stopped him.

"I know what drives you, my son, but this knowledge is cursed. The name of this boy has been forgotten, and now that he is dead, your troubles would be in vain one way or another; nothing you may find out about his name will resurrect him, but it could cost your life."

"It is somewhat hypocritical for you to tell me this after you have made such records yourself."

“And then I discarded them and hid them in the depths of the walls of an abandoned property, where they would not do any harm. I warn you, I am well aware of why you are suddenly showing interest in that name. But it is better for everyone involved if this boy remains the only Roronoa you have ever known. Do you understand me?"

Mihawk remained silent.

"You are on thin ice, my son. This name means only mischief for you and this child. The last Roronoa is dead and that is how it should stay."

"One could almost think that you are as afraid of the name Roronoa as the World Aristocrats of the legendary D.," Mihawk said clearly, without turning around.

"You have no idea what you are talking about, my son. This knowledge could mean your death and the one of your girl. And beware of mentioning these cursed names in one sentence if you do not want to draw the World Aristocrats’ attention to you or this girl in your home."

"Tze, you have always been an anxious man, but these fairy tales do not scare me."

"Yet they should. Believe me, let the past rest. Roronoa Zoro is dead and that is a good thing. If your girl turns out to be a Roronoa, she will be killed before she can fall into the hands of a D."

Now Mihawk became curious. But he knew he would not get any more answers here, not that it was necessary.

"I have nothing more to say to you. Farewell."

He left the base, leaving behind the guards and the man whose blood he shared. On board of his small ship, he reached for his old transponder snail.

"Good morning, Bosatsu here, house of..."

"Kanan", he roughly interrupted the housekeeper of his estate on Sasaki. "I need your help."

He drummed his fingers on his armrest with disbelief. In a few hours he would finally reach Kuraigana. The short detour over Sasaki had cost him more than a whole day, but the small bundle of his father’s handwritten, faded notes had been worth it.

But he was not able to decipher most of it. Although he did not want to admit it, it was true that he could do little with the fully written pages, but honestly, his efforts were limited. Too impatiently, he was waiting to finally finish his journey. For too long he had not heard from Roronoa.

To his disapproval, Roronoa had not called once, and Mihawk himself had been too proud to be the first, knowing full well that such an act would bring him nothing but the ridicule of his best friend and his disciple.

But now he grew displeased. Of course, he trusted Jiroushin, trusted his abilities and judgment, trusted that he could keep any harm from Roronoa and himself. Of course, he also knew that his concern for Roronoa was purely emotional, and he was well aware that his little frog was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

He was annoyed by how irrational he felt, and at the same time he could never quite silence that concern as he tried to hide it and focused on the faded pages in front of him.

After his call, Kanan had taken a total of four days of tireless searching to find them. Eventually, she had moved a bookcase aside and broken through the wall behind it to get into the small cavity behind the fireplace. There she had torn down another wall – the remnants of a past castle on whose ruins the old Dracules had built the estate – only to find a hollow stone in the back wall of the fireplace room, in whose belly a small wooden box had been fixed with a mixture of straw and mortar.

Mihawk had to admit that it had been a shock to enter the fireplace room, even though Kanan had already spent several days working on restoring it to its original state. He also doubted that he himself would have found the wooden box in the first place. Presumably, he would have lost patience on the first evening and given up or torn the fireplace room apart.

His father had probably really tried to bury his records without destroying them directly. Ohara had undoubtedly taught him that even the most terrible testimonies of times should not be destroyed.

With a sigh, Mihawk recalled the visits to the doomed island, long ago, when he had been a child, and Ohara a place of teaching and knowledge. He remembered the day Ohara had fallen. It had been written over all newspapers, spoken of the devils and the danger that had been stopped by the World Government. His father had probably mourned for the lost knowledge, the thousands of unread words, and the genius people the world had lost that day.

Mihawk had betrayed the Marines around that time, perhaps one year or another earlier, he did not remember the exact day. He must have been around twenty, around Roronoa's age. It had barely interested him, but now he wondered what strange fate had been imposed on the child in his home.

_If your girl turns out to be a Roronoa, she will be killed before she can fall into the hands of a D._

Roronoa had once told him that he had not planned to follow the Straw Hat, but things had turned out that way, and Mihawk remembered well that day in the East Blue, when he had fought Roronoa and the boy with the straw hat had also gotten in his way. Could it be a coincidence that a loner like Roronoa followed an idiot like the Straw Hat and within a few days of knowing each other was willing to sacrifice his life for him; was even willing to sacrifice his dream, which he had pursued for twenty years, only for this man?

Could it be a coincidence that the last devil of Ohara, Nico Robin, joined the same crew after they had even been enemies at first, if he remembered it correctly?

He looked at the pages in his hands.

Did Nico Robin know what the legendary D. was all about? Did she have any idea why the name Roronoa could not be mentioned in the same sentence?

Shaking his head, he rubbed his face. She had been a child when Ohara had been destroyed; it was highly unlikely that she had the answers he was currently looking for. If he was honest, Mihawk was not really interested in the well-known D., even less in the true history or, more generally, anything concerning the Celestial Dragons.

But when Roronoa had been able to read the books, the books that his father had collected on his countless journeys and that Ohara's researchers had supposedly not been able to decipher, Mihawk had feared that things would become bothersome.

And his father had only confirmed his worries. It had been nothing more than a clue. Too many coincidences had made him suspicious. The books with the unreadable script and Roronoa, who had risen from the dead and could read these books. A nameless past but a name associated with the forgotten history. To top it all off, it seemed that those who knew at least something about the true history would want to prevent a Roronoa from falling into the hands of a D.

So what did that mean for Roronoa and his captain, and why had this crew been allowed to go their way for so long? Why had no one during the riots in Alabasta already, no, why had the World Government not intervened when the name of the Demon of the East Blues had first appeared?

But the answer was obvious. Presumably only a handful of people knew about it, and if the World Government sent someone to kill an insignificant pirate hunter, it would probably have caught the attention of some enemies.

Moreover, it did not really suit the lazy nobles to act in a forward-looking manner, and the five elders did not believe in fairy tales and myths that predicted the demise of the Celestial Dragons. With a grin, Mihawk thought that the same arrogance would mean their downfall.

But he did not know if he was hoping for that to happen in his time. Of course, this would make this world interesting again, on the other hand, an overthrow of the powers sounded like much trouble.

On the horizon, the dark outlines of Kuraigana appeared, and something like relief spread through him. Soon he would be home, would see Roronoa's progress, and perhaps find out more about the forgotten history than he ever wanted to know.

But the closer he got, the more suspicious he became, and for good reason.

He could perceive Jiroushin as a light in the darkness, even though he had not even reached the island, almost making Mihawk smile. Although Kuraigana did not seem very welcoming, it seemed to lure its guest into feeling safe, so much so that they forgot to hide their own presence and look out for the presence of strangers. Skills that fighters of their quality mastered to such perfection that they used them automatically without even thinking about it; except apparently when being on Kuraigana. Accordingly, it was a little surprise to Mihawk that his childhood friend had forgotten to hide his presence. But why in God's name could he not perceive Roronoa?

Roronoa was still a beginner in the art of Haki, and to protect himself against such a developed Kenbunshoku Haki as Mihawk had mastered it, even the best found it difficult, not to mention the high degree of concentration and thinking that this skill required.

Of course, Mihawk did not worry that Jiroushin had killed Roronoa, but even as Loreen, Roronoa could not completely hide his presence, even though he was not so clearly perceived. Did he underestimate Roronoa again?

No, he certainly did not. Even if they had started to train this skill right after Mihawk's departure, Mihawk would have to perceive him at least if he consciously focused on it.

At last he was close enough to be able to bridge the distance to the mainland with a courageous jump, trusting that his boat would no longer need his lead for the last few meters. Quietly, he hurried through the familiar forest, able to hear Jiroushin's calm voice from afar, but not to understand his words. When he reached the edge of the trees and saw only the ruins in front of him, he froze.

"What in heaven's name...?"

Between the ruins stood Jiroushin, opposite to him was Roronoa, and by his eyes Mihawk immediately realized why he had not been able to feel his presence.

For there stood not Roronoa, but the demon.


	46. Chapter 42 - Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody!
> 
> I hope you're having a great time! My current weekend is filled from morning to evening with a crashcurs, preparing me for my exam (in several month if you mind...) so yeah, not really that much freetime, but it's all good, because I do have enough time to post, of course ;-)
> 
> And I hope you guys have enough time to read a little bit this weekend, because this is a fun little chapter ;-P  
> Thank you all so much for taking the time to comment, and all your sweet words, you have no idea with how much joy every little mail from Ao3 fills me and I love to read what you guys think! So thank you, so so much!
> 
> See you monday^^

Chapter 42 - Mistakes

-Mihawk-

"What in heaven's name...?"

Suddenly, both the demon of his disciple and Jiroushin looked at him.

“Hawky? What are you...?"

"What is going on here?" He growled, unable to stop staring at Roronoa's eyes. "Why the hell did you...?"

"Zoro, ignore him. You must not lose control now, understood? Your coating has become brittle."

"Okay." Roronoa turned his gaze away from Mihawk, nodded to the Vice Admiral, and closed those strange eyes that could impress even Mihawk.

“What…”

"Hawky, please stay calm. Your presence certainly does not contribute to Zoro's concentration and..."

"What's going on here?!" Mihawk interrupted the Vice Admiral and hurried towards him, never leaving Roronoa out of the corner of his eye, who stood there like a statue and constantly coated the bamboo stick in his hand. "Explain yourself, Jiroushin!"

They stood forehead against forehead.

"Calm down, Mihawk. You are two days late, Zoro is a fast learner. We do nothing more than bring him to the verge and as you can see, it works..."

"You fool." Mihawk rushed around, ripping Yuro off his back and the wooden chain from his neck, pushing both into Jiroushin's arms. Then he stepped towards his protégé. "Roronoa, put that dead plant away and attack me."

Both, the man behind him and the boy in front of him, made a surprised noise and Mihawk felt their eyes on him.

"Hawky, what are you..."

"Silence!"

A glance over his shoulder showed him an expression that he had become accustomed to over the years and which Jiroushin could otherwise hide so well. But his anger and indignation were too great for Mihawk to give meaning to Jiroushin's feelings.

"Why should I attack you?"

Roronoa, on the other hand, did not seem to be intimidated in the least. It was obvious that he struggled to keep up his concentration, his body trembled slightly, and his voice was even rougher than usual. But he withstood Mihawk's eyes as usual. It almost seemed as if Roronoa was waking up from a kind of trance, much more attentive than just seconds earlier.

"So I can show this botcher of a teacher his incompetence."

Jiroushin took a loud breath but did not speak.

Quite contrary to Roronoa: "I thought you wouldn't fight me, so you don't kill me by accident in your bloodlust."

"Then let us both hope that in such a case Jiroushin pulls Yoru fast enough to stop me before I kill you."

For another second Roronoa looked at him illegible, then he threw away the bamboo and before it touched the ground, Roronoa attacked. Normally Mihawk would have dodged him, but that was not the point of this lesson. With ease, Mihawk parried his protégé's coated fist.

For a moment Roronoa hesitated, took a step back and examined his teacher as if he did not know what to think of the situation. But then he shook his head, showed his almost indifferent grin, and attacked again. This time, Mihawk did not block his fist, but wrapped it with his own hand, grabbing tightly, dugging his fingers into the coated flesh of the youngster.

"Mihawk, what are you doing? You're going to break his fingers!"

Mihawk ignored his friend's words and stared directly at his student, who breathed heavily but answered his gaze without the slightest hesitation. After another breath, Roronoa grunted quietly and slammed his free hand after him, but again Mihawk grabbed the other's fist and held him almost defenseless.

"If you do not want me to break your fingers, I would advise you to not hold back any longer," Mihawk growled, pressing even more firmly.

He credited Roronoa for keeping an almost straight face and giving no other sign that he was in pain. But Mihawk was not here to play the good teacher, but to tame the danger that Jiroushin had exposed himself and Roronoa to.

With a slight movement, he allowed Roronoa to free his fingers and press them against Mihawk’s. If they were equal, this could have been an interesting exchange of forces, gripping each other's hands, just an arm's length between their faces. But since Roronoa was clearly inferior to him, he was only trying by all means to prevent Mihawk from breaking the backs of his hands. Roronoa's Haki was almost a proper armor by now, but under the pressure exerted by Mihawk, his disciple barely managed to maintain it.

Mihawk could feel Roronoa squirming under his fingers; of course, he was too weak to free himself. The longer the fight lasted - if one wanted to call it a fight - the more unsteady Roronoa's Haki flow became, which Mihawk could easily feel and it confirmed his fear. If the flow were to break now, Roronoa would break as well.

Once again, he could hear Jiroushin shouting words at him, asking him to stop what he was doing, but it was too late for that, it had been too late for a long time.

Roronoa still did not complain; except for his breaking breath and his struggling fingers, nothing showed that he was fighting a fight that he had already lost. But Mihawk wondered how long it would take, how long he had to ignore Jiroushin's calls, and how long Roronoa was able to endure the pain. But Mihawk knew that if something would not change soon, Roronoa's bones would give in, they would break, and despite his anger, despite his rage and ability to quickly lose control when it came to Roronoa, Mihawk, of course, had no interest in breaking the hands his protégé.

"If you won’t let it happen soon, I will break your hands!" Without interrupting eye-contact, Mihawk repeated his warning, knowing full well that broken hands would then be Roronoa's smallest problem. For if not his bones, Roronoa himself would soon break.

But it was at that moment that it happened. Suddenly there was pressure, suddenly Roronoa's fingers dug deep into Mihawk's flesh. Suddenly, Roronoa's Haki was so much stronger than before, so much steadier than before, and suddenly he managed to absorb Mihawk’s Haki and that, although Mihawk controlled his Haki as much as he could. For a second - perhaps a little longer than a second - they faced each other and Mihawk felt his fighting spirit awaken.

But then that pressure was gone, Roronoa's legs gave way and his Haki disappeared. Breathing heavily, he knelt in front of Mihawk, his hands still encaged by Mihawk’s coated fists, without being able to free himself.

Mihawk watched him closely. So that was it. Jiroushin's reckless behavior had actually led to Roronoa becoming a monster, without losing control, albeit for just a fraction of a second. Nevertheless, it had been dangerous - extremely dangerous - of Jiroushin to train with Roronoa at the verge of losing control at any time, turning into a monster, a monster that Jiroushin was undoubtedly inferior to. Even Mihawk had long considered whether he would go down this path; it was certainly the most promising, but also the easiest way to break Roronoa, to lose him to madness forever. It had been pure luck that Roronoa had survived it.

"Let go of him!"

Surprised, Mihawk raised his head and noted Jiroushin, then looked at his own hands, still discolored by Haki. Blood dripped down between his fingers, where he crushed Roronoa's hands.

He quickly let go. Powerless, Roronoa's hands dropped down, while he did not even bother to look at them, breathing heavily, before he slumped to the side. He had his eyes half opened, but he hardly seemed to be still conscious.

Mihawk stared at Jiroushin.

"Bringing him to the verge?" He whispered, breathing almost as hard as his little frog at the ground. "Were you too stupid to see that Roronoa had already crossed that verge long ago, or were you so naive to think that he wouldn't break?"

He paced forwards and took his weapons from Jiroushin, then he turned on his heels and hurried into the forest.

"Take care of him!" He ordered and stomped back to his boat to dock it safely.

The unrestrained anger in him was great, but at the same time he was delighted. What Jiroushin had done had been a mistake, no doubt he had taken a risk that Mihawk had wanted to prevent by all means. He himself would probably have gone a different path, a long and therefore demanding path, but which would have ensured that Roronoa could become a monster without breaking first.

But things had developed the way they had, Roronoa had discovered his true powers for a fraction of a second. In just over half a year he had become as strong as Mihawk would have given him at least one more year. By now, he was sure that Roronoa would need less than five years to defeat him, and after he had no longer dared to hope to find an equal opponent again, after nearly 15 years, this period seemed unbelievably short.

After he had docked his coffin boat and had taken his few belongings off board, he rushed back into the forest.

Nevertheless, he would have to settle things with Jiroushin. It was not so much a problem that the Vice Admiral had chosen a method that Mihawk himself considered to be far too aggressive and dangerous – although that would have been a problem if Roronoa had broken – but rather that Mihawk and Jiroushin had clearly discussed what he could and could not add to the training schedule. Roronoa had learned to distinguish his own from foreign Haki; Mihawk had been well aware that Roronoa would not take long to do so. At least for the basics Mihawk had doubted that Roronoa would take longer than one or two days. Therefore, he had discussed with Jiroushin that afterwards Roronoa would have been ready to learn to hide his own presence as well as to perceive foreign presences through the Kenbunshoku Haki. 

Mihawk would have even agreed if Jiroushin had allowed Roronoa to give it a try with real weapons. At some point, the youngster had to start hardening swords, so Mihawk would have accepted that; he might not have been pleased not to be present at Roronoa's first attempt, but he would have understood.

But this was something else. Jiroushin had willingly put Roronoa and himself in danger. Although the Vice Admiral knew how dangerous Roronoa could become if he became a monster without being able to control it, he had trained with Mihawk’s little frog to narrow down the verge at which Roronoa could break and lose his mind. But obviously Jiroushin had not seen that, when Mihawk had entered the scene, Roronoa had crossed that verge dangerously far.

Mihawk reached the castle, the heavy gate fell shut behind him, and left his belongings uncaring in the entrance hall as he rushed to the hallway where the chambers lay. On his way he ran into Jiroushin. When he saw Mihawk, he stopped.

"Listen, Hawky. I understand you're upset, but can't we...?"

"I am not going to discuss your incompetence in the hallway, Jiroushin," he roughly interrupted the other, not even slowing down his pace. "Wait for me in the fireplace room. I will first check on Roronoa and then meet you there." 

"But wait, Hawky."

"I have nothing more to tell you."

Mihawk continued his path. Even though the situation had developed in a pleasant way, he was angry with Jiroushin, even more so, he felt betrayed by his best friend. He had discussed with Jiroushin exactly what Roronoa had been allowed to train and what not, and Jiroushin had simply ignored it, had put Roronoa and himself in danger.

If Mihawk had arrived just a few minutes later, it could have been too late. Roronoa's Haki had already been so unsteady when he had arrived, that it was obscure to Mihawk, how Jiroushin could not have noticed. The moment Roronoa had finally given in to his own power, allowed himself to release it, at that moment he could just as easily have been lost to that power for good, or it would have simply overtaken him at some point.

Without knocking, the lord of the island stomped into the room of his little frog. Roronoa was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear water running from the adjoining bathroom before it was turned off. A few dull steps later, the youngster appeared in the door frame and looked only mildly surprised over to him.

"How are you, Roronoa?" Mihawk asked, consciously much kinder than he had spoken to Jiroushin.

Roronoa shrugged and threw a towel over his bare shoulders.

"Exhausted," he surprisingly admitted, rather than acting as unimpressed as usual.

Mihawk watched the youngster scurry over to the bed and dropping on unmade sheets. Except for his underpants, Roronoa was naked, apparently had been in the shower until a few seconds ago. His bare chest, legs, and arms showed the bruises of the past few days, discolored spots, abrasions, and minor cuts, nothing of concern, no unusual image.

But his hands were different. Despite the sloppy bandages – already slightly reddened and damp from the shower – Mihawk could clearly see the swelling.

"How bad are your injuries?" Mihawk asked, guilt-conscious, and walked over to the bed.

"Oh that?" Roronoa raised his left hand and then dropped it on his eyes, as if the light were dazzling him. "Not bad, a bit aching, a bit bruised. I don't think I can flip you off for a few days, but nothing to worry about."

"I cannot remember you ever making such an obscene gesture towards me," Mihawk commented calmly, dropping on his chair.

"At least not when you’re watching," Roronoa replied with a smile, looking at him from beneath the shadow of his arm.

"I am surprised you have not turned yet," Mihawk continued the conversation, deciding to ignore that little side-blow.

"I will soon, can feel it," Roronoa muttered. "But I thought you were coming, so..."

The younger one did not finish his sentence, but shrugged his shoulders again, leaving, as so often, something unsaid.

"Well, you should rest and then eat something. Afterwards please come to the fireplace room. In the meantime, I will have to teach Jiroushin a lesson about his misconduct."

"Tze, as if he’s your subordinate," Roronoa grumbled.

Mihawk rose.

"He was for some years, both as Marine and afterwards. But he has never opposed my order, to this day, and for that he will have to bear the consequences. But that is not supposed to be your burden. Rest for now."

"You're talking so much again, so annoying," murmured the other as Mihawk walked to the door.

"Mihawk." He stopped. "Don't blame Jiroushin. He couldn't do anything about it. I forced him."

Slowly Mihawk turned around to the younger one, who had not moved an inch.

"What are you talking about? Please, how should you be able to force Jiroushin to do...?"

"It's actually your fault."

“What?!”

Heavily, Roronoa sat up and looked at him from the bed.

"Well, you just didn't show up and I got impatient. During the first few days Jiroushin told me how I could try to reach this state without going berserk, but he said it would be too dangerous and you would probably be against doing it this way. But I just wanted to keep training and not waste time doing nothing, so I told him he could come along and keep an eye on me, or I would do it on my own."

Mihawk stared at the younger one in dismay. For a moment, he had forgotten that Roronoa could be like that. Stubborn and incomprehensible.

"Because of two days you made such an uprising? But there are so many other things you could have learned in the meantime."

Roronoa shrugged.

"Didn't know when you'd come back and Jiroushin said you'd probably want to be there the first time I would coat a sword. So I didn't have much more options around..."

"You could have trained with Jiroushin until you..."

"Until I what? Can perceive the presence of others and hide mine? Distinguishing foreign Haki from mine and using both independently? Until I defeat Jiroushin?"

"Yes!" Angry, he opened his arms. "Yes! Why didn't you fight him until you defeated him, until you...?"

"I defeated him."

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

“What?”

"Both with stick and without, the day before yesterday within less than half an hour. But he does not want to use his sword until I can harden mine."

He stared at the youngster in disbelief, who looked back unimpressed.

"So no, there was nothing else I could do. Everything else, according to Jiroushin, will come with time, but not in days or weeks, but rather months or years. That's why I decided to tackle my greatest challenge, successfully, as you may have noticed."

Wordlessly, he stared at Roronoa. He had guessed that his little frog would soon surpass Jiroushin, but that it would happen so quickly, had been even beyond his expectations. So, it really was about time to teach him to fight with real weapons.

"You stupid boy," Mihawk finally muttered. "You could have fallen into the madness for good, could have killed Jiroushin and yourself, and all this only for a few days of training. Was it really worth it?"

Roronoa grinned at him smugly.

"Tell me?" He whispered almost playfully. "Did you have fun?"

Mihawk could not answer that question. He could not say how much this moment, when Roronoa had finally ignited his true power, had aroused him, had inspired him, had almost made him really fight.

Now Roronoa grinned broadly and tilted his head slightly, seemed much more dangerous now than during their argument.

"I thought so."

"So you understand what happened? What happened to you?"

Roronoa nodded, now seriously again.

"Jiroushin explained the stuff about mental self-regulation to me and that in this odd state I can release all my Haki at the same time. He said that I would probably have to use both skills together to have a chance against you."

"He is not wrong," Mihawk agreed. “But he is mistaken about one thing. The impressive thing about your ability is not that you can release all your own and the collected Haki at once, but that you can also still use Haki even when your reserves are exhausted, just like only me and a handful of other people can."

The younger one answered his gaze coolly.

"Of course it is dangerous, it will weaken you and could cost you your life." Now Mihawk could not prevent a grin. "But I doubt that this prize will deter you."

Roronoa laughed quietly. “I'm surprised you’re not trying to talk me out of it. Especially given that you wanted to rip Jiroushin a new one just a minute ago, because he put us in danger." 

"That is something different, Roronoa. I simply do not want anything to happen to you before you can defeat me." He did not laugh; he was deadly serious. "But when that day comes, I want you to confront me with everything you have and can offer. I want you to use all your strength, not holding back and defeat me as the better fighter."

With each word, Roronoa's face had become more unreadable. Now he answered Mihawk's gaze silently and Mihawk wondered what the young man was thinking.

"What now? No witty answer, no daring promise, not even an arrogant grin? I am shocked, Roronoa, I am not used to such behavior from you. Where is your great talk about the fact that I have once again underestimated you, that you have now come one step closer, that your hunting me down at great speed?"

Roronoa was silent, but nothing had remained of his mischievous grin. Mihawk watched the younger man thoughtfully. Jiroushin may not have noticed it, but could it be that...?

"It was good that you came." Roronoa dodged his gaze. "At the ruins... just before you came... I don't know if..."

"I know," he interrupted Roronoa, who tried to put into words what he could hardly understand. But that he was able to realize his constitution at all while clinging to the last sparks of his consciousness, Mihawk was immensely impressed. "You did well, Roronoa, another one in your place would have broken."

"If you hadn’t come… I would have broken," Roronoa admitted hoarsely. "I could feel it, I... I was about to... it could have gone wrong."

Rarely Roronoa had been that honest and open towards him, and even less often did Roronoa admit his own insecurity; he was ashamed, obviously.

"But you did not break, you have been successful and from now on you will only become stronger. I am really curious to see how quickly you can get better."

Roronoa did not respond. He just seemed so unusually young. Sometimes Mihawk forgot that Roronoa was almost still a child. No, he never forgot that his little frog was only half his age, but sometimes during their conversations when Roronoa looked at him, faced him fearlessly, made fun of him, sometimes Mihawk forgot that he was still so young, could still be so insecure.

"I know that feeling," he said simply, looking at the other one. “When I understood how dangerous and uncontrollable I can be, it was very similar to me. At some point it will get easier."

He turned towards the door.

"When?"

"When you know that there is someone strong enough to stop you in doubt. So, you have no reason to worry, as long as I am stronger than you, I will shoulder this responsibility."

"Well, here I thought you'd give me some training tips, not some kind of philosophical bullshit."

Smiling, Mihawk reached for the door.

"Impossible as always. Sleep, Roronoa, recover, and later we will talk."

He pulled the door close behind him.

"As if I would listen to any of your orders."

Mihawk marched through the entrance hall towards the fireplace room. But the gentle feeling that just had filled him diminished with every step. He was happy with Roronoa's development, grateful that he had survived unscathed. Although, of course, he also knew what Roronoa was about to face. It was not easy to defeat one’s inner monster, but it was much harder to become one’s own monster. But Roronoa should not have to worry about that tonight.

Still, concerning Jiroushin Mihawk was not as sympathetic. Roronoa was stubborn, reckless, and tired of life sometimes. It was not surprising to Mihawk that this youngster would come up with such dangerous ideas and intended to try them regardless of any consequences.

That was precisely why Jiroushin should have looked after him!

Below the perpetually grinning happy-face was a reliable, serious strategist, whom Mihawk trusted unconditionally. He had not doubted for a second that Jiroushin would cope with the stubbornness of his little frog, had not doubted that Jiroushin would follow his words.

Gruffly, he opened the door to the fireplace room. His best friend knelt opposite him by the fireplace and just lit a fire. When he saw Mihawk, he rose and brushed the dust off his pants.

"Don't look at me like that, Hawky, I don’t deserve that."

"You deserve your head cut off!" The anger, which had just faded, flared up again as he stepped towards Jiroushin. "What have you been thinking? Were you not aware that...?"

"Don't scold me like that," the blond interrupted him just as angry, "it wasn't as if I wanted Zoro to try something so risky! He left me no choice."

"What are you talking about? He is still almost a kid! How do you want to become a father if you cannot even deal with some teenager?"

Suddenly, Jiroushin became pale in anger.

"Don't you dare dragging my unborn child into this matter! What do you think I should have done, oh great master of the sword? He knew what to do and if you haven't noticed it yet, this pirate doesn't listen to orders and prohibitions."

Mihawk ignored the other's hurt feelings.

"Then you should have just forced him, if necessary by physical means. After all, he is still..."

"He is still what? Inferior?" The Vice Admiral snorted. "Stop fooling yourself. The only way I could have stopped him would have been by using my rapier and you won't see the day that I hurt a student entrusted to me, just to..."

"Oh yeah, you pacifist, and you even dare to defend yourself? So instead of wounding him once, you'd rather risk breaking him."

"Now stop it!" Jiroushin roared, an unhealthy redness crawled up his neck and replaced the pale anger. "You know Zoro better than I do. You must have been aware that he would not be stopped, not by you and certainly not by me. I had no choice and I'm not letting me be accused by you of standing next to him instead of letting him go through this on his own."

He was not used to Jiroushin arguing with him, not like that. Normally, the blond quickly recognized his mistakes and apologized; most of the time, their struggles were short-lived, even though Mihawk could be so relentless.

"It wasn't a mistake," Jiroushin insisted. “I didn't make a mistake. I have nothing to blame myself for. But you have a problem with it, not because it happened, but because I was there and not you. Because Zoro and I went down a path that seemed too risky to you and you weren't there to keep everything under control."

"And I have a every right to be angry." Unlike Jiroushin, Mihawk spoke much calmer, even though he clenched his fists in rage. "I have a every right to be angry, Jiroushin. I trusted you that you would not try anything like that, and you betrayed my trust. But much worse than that is that if I had not come, Roronoa would have lost his mind because you did not even notice it..."

"Do you really think I had not noticed?"

Startled, he looked at Jiroushin, who bit his lip.

"Do you really think I had not noticed how disturbed Zoro's armor was, how absently he was looking? Do you think I didn't know he was about to break?”

"Then why did you carry on? Why didn't you interrupt him? You would have..."

By now they had returned to room volume, it was almost a normal conversation, were it not for these hurt feelings.

"It was too late, Mihawk. You did not come by the very moment he reached that state. As soon as he had even scratched the verge, he changed. He shivered and trembled, was absentminded, barely listened to me, ignored every one of my suggestions to stop, and simply raised his Haki level. All I could do was be there and hope he would survive."

In doubt, Mihawk looked at the other.

"Why didn't you just stop him, why didn't you just knock him out?"

"Tze, you mean doing something that reckless and attacking him during such a state? The way you did it? That was pretty much the last thing that came to my mind and I still don't understand why you did something that dangerous and even less how he could survive it. Everyone knows that a fight with such an unsteady Haki flow has serious consequences for one’s body. He should not have survived it, and certainly not gained control."

Suddenly Mihawk understood what had happened, suddenly he understood why they were so divided. He had forgotten, forgotten how Roronoa could be in training, that he wouldn't take a No for an answer.

Mihawk had been training the youngster for so long that he had forgotten how unusual it was for a teacher to find a compromise with his student, and he had forgotten that there were moments when Roronoa would not accept compromises and his own monster was certainly one of the things Roronoa would not negotiate about.

He should have prepared Jiroushin better, warned him, not only of the unruly stubbornness, the unwavety coarseness, and the persistent ambition, he should have warned Jiroushin first and foremost of Roronoa's relentless determination.

But perhaps Jiroushin could not have stopped Mihawk's little frog even then, perhaps Mihawk would not even have been able to do it himself. When Roronoa made a decision, nothing could dissuade him, as Mihawk knew all too well.

And, of course, Jiroushin was right. Roronoa was not the first person with special Haki abilities, and anyone who wanted to teach Haki at a reasonable level knew that an unsteady Haki flow should not be disturbed from the outside. If a beginner produced a lot of Haki and the flow became too instable, the energy could clot in some areas. In such a case the user was not allowed to lose concentration, because otherwise that much accumulated energy could explode within the body and in such a situation it would not matter whether it was Roronoa’s own Haki or not; at such a moment a beginner could kill oneself and for this reason a reasonable basic knowledge in Haki application was indispensable.

If one considered that Roronoa was carrying a sleeping monster, which was just waiting for him to lose control under such a burden in order to take his place, then Jiroushin was indeed right. It was madness to attack a student in such a situation.

But this was not about any student, it was about Roronoa, and how could Jiroushin have known that Roronoa's strength was the direct fight? Mihawk knew from months of racking his brain that Roronoa's mind was never as sharp as in real combat. Roronoa, who was worried about being just a dull club, became the sharpest blade in battle, and Mihawk knew that. He knew that Roronoa never concentrated as much as in combat, even when playing chess, even when he read and translated his books, he could never concentrate as well as he did when he was fighting.

Therefore, Mihawk had attacked him because Roronoa had been on the verge of losing concentration and thus control, and Mihawk had known that this had been the only way to possibly save him from it.

But how could Jiroushin have known? 

Now Mihawk understood why he and Jiroushin disagreed. The Vice Admiral was a textbook example teacher, knew the rules and the taboos, had taught more people in sword fighting than Mihawk had probably ever crossed blades with. He did what was right, the way it was taught, trusting in his common sense and learned knowledge.

Mihawk, on the other hand, was not interested in conventional training and teaching methods. The few people he had ever taught, he had mostly trained after what he had thought was right, had, of course, explained many things to them, and had gone through all these basics and exercises with them that were necessary, but in the end Mihawk had never done anything other than notice his disciple's weaknesses and eradicated them until none had been left.

However, this was not quite the case with Roronoa. He did not know how many times they had argued, how often Roronoa had ignored Mihawk's orders and how often Mihawk had been almost forced to adapt his own methods for the youngster. At one point, Mihawk had accepted that Roronoa was anything but ordinary, and that he had to adapt to his little frog so that Roronoa could learn the way he needed to.

It had been a long, conflict-ridden journey that Mihawk had been very reluctant to follow, but he himself was someone who liked to move away from the old rules. How could he have expected Jiroushin to do this within a few days, when it had taken him several months?

The biggest difference between them was that Mihawk knew Roronoa and had given him more responsibility – had been given no choice than to give him more responsibility - than a teacher would normally give to his student, as Jiroushin had not wanted to do.

The reason why things had developed as they had was because Mihawk had not factored in how well he knew Roronoa, and that no knowledge of the world, no experience, and no intelligence could make up for it. He had misunderstood that the reason he was able to teach Roronoa so well was solely because they were so familiar with each other.

"It was my mistake," he whispered softly, turning away from Jiroushin as the truth caught up with him.

"Excuse me?" Jiroushin asked behind him. "You would never admit that you did something wrong. I thought you couldn't make any mistakes.”

Disapprovingly, Mihawk clicked his tongue.

"Roronoa would strongly disagree with you."

"That doesn't surprise me, but that you make mistakes at all and then notice them self-reflectively; who are you and what have you done with Hawky?"

With a smile, Mihawk had to look at the other again.

"I have to apologize, Jirou. I should have been aware that I cannot impose on you a responsibility that is not even in my hands."

"I don't understand in the least what you're saying, Hawky. But it's balm for my soul that you apologize, no matter for what."

Shaking his head, Mihawk wandered over to his armchair and let himself fall into it.

"Well then I should perhaps thank you. Thanks to you, Roronoa has now defeated and taken in his monster, but if I think about it, I should rather thank myself for not letting him lose his mind."

"Tze", Jiroushin laughed, "I don't even want any of that praise, you can have it all for yourself. I'm not proud that Zoro has become a monster himself. If I would have any say, he would have buried this dark part of himself forever."

"Oh, Jiroushin. You were not able to stop me and Roronoa certainly makes his own decisions, accept it or leave if you cannot bear it."

The blond dropped to the floor next to him, despite the roughly twenty seats within his reach.

"You’re not serious, Hawky. Am I supposed to find a liking in helping a child lose himself, just as you lost yourself then? I'm sorry if I'd prefer Zoro to live a happy, satisfied life, but..."

"Oh, Jirou, listen to you talk," Mihawk almost laughed. "Happiness and satisfaction? Do you think Roronoa could ever be happy if he could not pursue his dream? And what are you talking about _Zoro_ so kindly now? I thought you wanted to punish him for his wrongdoings? And now _Zoro_ is supposed to live a happy and satisfied life? You should have seen him when I talked to him just now; he did not seem unhappy or lost to me. On the contrary, I think Roronoa has finally found what he has been looking for, for a long time."

"Keep talking, Hawky. But if you are right, it at least calms me down a little bit." The Vice Admiral rose. "Be that as it may, let's talk about it tomorrow. I dearly need some sleep now. Your little frog kept me on my toes quite nicely."

"Then you should rest. I would like to discuss the last few days with you tomorrow morning, but now I have to talk to Roronoa first. "

"Suit yourself." But then Jiroushin stopped and looked at him over his shoulder. "How is your father doing, by the way? Nataku exaggerated again, didn't he?"

Mihawk nodded with a sigh. "Of course. The old Gat has a body corroded by alcohol, but that is it. Otherwise, the meeting was as unnecessary as expected."

With his eyebrows raised, Jiroushin looked at him, but then he raised only one hand and muttered: "Fair enough," before leaving Mihawk alone.

Lost in thoughts, Mihawk looked at the whispering flames. He had never thought things would develop like this. He had never thought he would ever be so afraid, but the moment he had stood in front of Roronoa, knowing that he could lose him any second, only to be inspired by his success now.

Breathing deeply, he put a hand in front of his eyes, shuting out the heat of the fire for a moment. There was something in his mind that he could not quite grasp, could not quite understand, and comprehend, and that gave him a headache. He needed calmness, silence, a moment of carelessness, in order to have the patience to deal with it.

He thought he would have been able to rest enough during the last few days, but the constant concern for Roronoa had never let go of him. Perhaps now was the time, knowing Roronoa was safe, had taken the biggest hurdle of his being, perhaps Mihawk could now retreat into himself for a few minutes and take the time to...

"Wow, you look shitty. Would have thought that after two weeks of vacation you would at least look a little less grumpy."

"Roronoa," he muttered, rubbing his nose as the sarcastic voice of his little frog filled the room. How could he have hoped to find peace for a second in this castle, his retreat from the world?


	47. Chapter 43 - Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> uff, I'm almost running late, monday is almost over (at least where I live^^') Sorry for that. The last days have been rather busy, but in a good way. So for now I will go to bed and catch some dearly needed sleep, but I promise I will come back to read all your comments and to answer ;-)
> 
> Until then, have fun with this... let's say not as calm chapter ;-P
> 
> See you friday!

Chapter 43 - Memory

-Mihawk-

He opened his heavy eyes and glanced over to Roronoa, who only looked back with raised eyebrows and then dropped onto the opposite sofa.

"As shitty as you look, one would think I beat up you, not the other way around."

Mihawk watched his little frog as he pulled out one of the books Mihawk had given him with his bandaged hands from his far too big coat and began to read. He never understood why Roronoa, out of all the things Kanan had sent him to try on, had chosen this ugly, unfit green coat. Even in this form Roronoa was already looking like he was drowning in it, as Lady Loreen he seemed almost like a child who played with the parents' wardrobe.

"I am surprised you already came, especially in this form. Shouldn't you rest? I did not expect you to be able to transform already."

Now Roronoa looked up from his book at him with a questioning glance. After a second, he tilted his head, as if he were pondering about something.

"But you do know that I slept for more than four hours?"

Displeased Mihawk wondered what reasons Roronoa had to come up with such an obvious lie. He could not hope that such a simple lie would be enough to convince Mihawk to continue his training, acting like he already had recovered, could he?

"And I have already eaten; Perona saved me some leftovers, before she went to bed. By the way, she heard you yelling at Jiroushin and is now afraid that you, even more than... Why the hell do you keep looking at me like I’m...?"

"Oh, Roronoa. What kind of game are you playing with me? We have agreed that there is no need for lies. Tonight, we will not continue your training, even if you had slept for four hours, so..."

"Wait a second." Roronoa dropped his book and looked at him annoyed. "What kind of shit are you talking? I’m not lying. I do get that we won’t continue tonight and whether you believe it or not, I'm pretty done for the day to be honest and would have gone straight back to bed if you hadn't said you wanted to talk to me."

Now Mihawk had to admit that he felt quite annoyed because Roronoa pretended to have misunderstood something. Shaking his head, he sat up a little straighter.

"But Roronoa, if that was true, it would be the middle of the night right now."

"It is," Roronoa confirmed, not as irritated as before, lowering his attention back to the book in his hands. "You're kind of out of it, you know that? It's almost two o'clock at night. So no, for once I don't want to train, at least not before the sun has risen again."

Thoughtful, Mihawk watched as Roronoa turned a page. Apparently his last conversation with Roronoa had happened more than six hours ago? Yet he had been certain that less than an hour had passed. Had the small confrontation with Jiroushin taken much more time than he had noticed, or had the few seconds in which he had closed his eyes perhaps been longer than a few heartbeats? What was going on with him?

"So?" Roronoa murmured, without even looking up. "You wanted to talk to me and here I am. What’s the deal?"

Smiling, Mihawk decided to ignore the riddle of time for a moment and turned to his student.

"Actually, I just wanted to know how you have been the last few days."

Roronoa snorted quietly, flipping another page. It was a pleasant picture to watch him read, even if it surprised Mihawk that Roronoa could read and talk at the same time and if he were quite honest, it bothered him a bit.

"And because of something like that, I can't go to bed yet?" But Roronoa grinned awkwardly, obviously not being serious. "How I’ve been? I've already told you everything. I’ve learned the basics in..."

"For once, I was not talking about your progress."

Now Roronoa looked at him with big eyes.

"When I left you, Jiroushin was anything but friendly towards you and now he is all _'Zoro here and Zoro there'_. I wonder what happened."

"Nothing happened," Roronoa muttered, turning back to his book, "we got along if you mean that. Jiroushin is okay, I think, and I can hardly blame him for not being able to stand me because of Senichi." 

"Oh, I certainly can blame him for that."

Roronoa remained silent for a moment before continuing: "It was okay. Perona and Jiroushin got along, so she left me alone most of the time. I only had to help digging a few times, but Jiroushin and I combined that with training, so it was actually okay."

"Digging?" Mihawk asked suspiciously. He did not like any changes, especially concerning his home.

"Relax. Perona and Jiroushin just decided to revive the garden. Don't ask me why, I don't really care, but as I said, Jiroushin thought you wouldn't have a problem with it as long as Perona only changes things outside and leaves the castle as it is."

Mihawk could not really disagree with that, his childhood friend just knew him too well. He had chosen this castle as his home, but he was quite indifferent to the island itself.

"Oh, by the way, Eizen has written me a letter advising us to visit Mary Joa soon."

"And why should we do this?" Mihawk grumbled calmly. The politician's name alone was enough to remind him that Roronoa was probably keeping secrets about something that had to do with Eizen and could thus put Roronoa in danger.

"It's probably about appointing a new Shichibukai who has invited himself, or something. There also appears to be a proposal for another candidate. "

"So? Does Eizen really think that it would interest me in any way, which windy pirate is polluting this title? I do not have to tell you that I am going to leave the Shichibukais sooner rather than later."

"Just don't let Jiroushin hear that." Roronoa looked at him again. "But somehow you contradict yourself, don’t you? On the one hand you say that you don’t care for the title, on the other hand you don't want someone _to pollute_ it. To be honest, I don't really get it.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Mihawk got up.

"There is not much to understand, Roronoa. The Shichibukais are an important authority in the separation of powers. But of course, I oppose that some hound dogs run around carrying the same title I do. Do you think it is entertaining to sit at a table with a madman like Donquixote Doflamingo? His vain pomposity is anything but exciting and the pirate empress is in no less annoying."

"Seems to be a requirement for the title," Roronoa muttered in between.

"Please do not compare me to such commoners, Roronoa. In recent years, the cast has become more and more disappointing and believe me, I am just waiting for a reason to leave this stage. So no, if Eizen wants to be circling you, he has to come up with something better to lure me in."

"You're so annoying."

"And you are naive."

Roronoa laughed quietly: "I've never been called naive in my life."

"There is a first time for everything," Mihawk replied, leaving Roronoa back in the fireplace room.

When he came back in a few seconds later – now with his father's old bundle of documents – Roronoa sat unchanged on his sofa and read in the little booklet. Mihawk fervently hoped that he would translate this one as well soon.

"Tomorrow I will discuss with Jiroushin how long he will stay with us and then we should plan your further training." Roronoa nodded and slowly looked up to him. Mihawk settled on his armchair. "I actually wanted to discuss something completely different with you, Roronoa, even though I did not realize it was already that late."

He reached for the book that Roronoa read, and the youngster gave it to him without any objection. Lost in thoughts, Mihawk browse through a few pages – always careful not to let go of the page Roronoa was reading – and wondered again what mysteries and secrets those runes might contain.

"I have always wondered, if you can read these books here, you can read the poneglyphs as well, right?"

"No."

Surprised, Mihawk looked up.

"No? For me, these runes look identical, so why should you not be able read them?"

“They're the same characters, at least most of them, but I still can't read them. I recognize the signs, but they make no sense. They are almost randomly lined up at the poneglyphs. I've seen some of Robin's notes, but even with them I didn't understand a thing."

Roronoa shrugged his shoulders. But for Mihawk, this explained a lot.

"Of course. What would be a better encryption than to form a secret language from a dead language? Obviously, that makes so much more sense."

His little frog tilted his head.

"What are you talking about and why the hell should that be important?"

Sighing, Mihawk put the book aside and handed Roronoa his father's documents.

"Did it never occur to you, Roronoa? You can speak a dead language that was used more than 800 years ago to develop a secret language, so..."

"You're annoying," Roronoa interrupted him in his usual ruff, though non-hostile tone, "I've already told you that I don't care about this stuff."

Calmingly, Mihawk raised a hand and pleaded inwardly for patience.

"Please, listen to me. Do you know that my father tried to decipher these books once, but failed miserably? He disliked that so much that he took them to Ohara, so that those researchers could decipher them. But even they failed." Roronoa looked at him only mildly interested, while Mihawk continued: "Of course, it all makes sense now. They tried to draw conclusions from that secret language to this one you can speak. Perhaps they should have taken a completely new approach to understand it."

"And?" Apparently unimpressed, Roronoa loosened the thin thread that held the dry pages together and skimmed through them. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Well, it seemed conspicuously random to me that you can read that language, so I decided to find out what my father knows, because he has spent a lot more time with books than I will ever do."

Roronoa rose slowly and scanned the porous papers as he walked through the room.

"Roronoa, I think in these papers – those notes that my father put together over the years in painstaking legwork and then hid from the World Government – could be clues to your past, your ancestors, your heritage, and your... Roronoa!"

He jumped up and rushed over to the other, but he was too late. As if starving, the flames consumed the dry paper within an instant, crackling and bouncing.

Mihawk pushed Roronoa aside and wanted to reach for his father's records, but the fire had already turned them into ashes. He stood shocked by the blazing heat. Years of research, knowledge of passed scientists, countless thought processes of his father, all this was gone within a moment.

"What did you do?" Trembling, he turned to Roronoa, who looked at him uncaringly. "What the hell have you done?!"

He grabbed Roronoa by his shoulders, shook him as if he could retrieve the lost information this way.

"How dare you, you stupid child?! Those were the answers! Finally, you could have figured out what your name means, who your ancestors were, why you can speak this language, maybe even why you rose from the dead. Why? Why did you do something that stupid? Have you gone mad?! How shall we ever find out the truth behind your ability now? Didn't you want to know who you...?"

"Stop it." Roronoa sounded calm, almost peaceful. Quite different Mihawk, who wanted to hurl the younger one against the next best wall. "I don't care about any of this."

Coolly, Roronoa looked up to him, his face a mask of indifference.

"What are you talking about?" Mihawk whispered, hardly master of his wrath. At last he had found important clues. These pages could have contained the pieces of the puzzle that he still lacked to understand who Roronoa was, who he was in reality...

"This is not about me," Roronoa continued coldly, not even trying to break free from Mihawk's grip. "This is all about you, about what you want."

As if he had burned himself, he let go of his student.

"This is ridiculous," he said, "I know who I am, from whom I descend, whose blood flows through my veins. I bear the name of my family, the titles of my own deeds, and the heritage of my ancestors. You, on the other hand..."

"As I said, it's just about what you want." Almost in agreement, the flames flared up behind Mihawk. "This is all about you. All these things don’t matter to me and you have a problem with that. You want to know all this nonsense about my past, you want to look for something meaningful in my meaningless story and it bothers you that I don't care."

Now Roronoa walked towards him, stopped a hand-width in front of him, and although Mihawk towered above him by more than one head, Roronoa seemed to look down on him.

"You are the one of us who cares more about names and titles than words and deeds, and because I want your title – and probably also because I am one of the few fucking people you kind of care for – you are obsessed with finding anything in my past that justifies that. You're looking for a shitty explanation so I'm worth being taught and respected by the oh so big Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk."

Suddenly Roronoa hit him slightly against the chest, with Mihawk not knowing whether that blow had been so weak intentionally.

"But I don’t give a shit about this crap. I'm not going to defeat you because I'm some descendant of some great lost civilization, but because I overcome my limits every day and train relentlessly! I will not take your title because any blood of some noble ancestors flowing through my veins, but because I can and because I want to."

Rarely he had experienced the younger man so furiously.

“So, stop trying to explain my skills with things I can't influence. I do not accept that all the sacrifices and efforts of the past twenty years should be of less value than the blood of some dead person. Don't play down my effort and don't pretend this is about me."

Mihawk remained silent. Actually, he should be angry. Roronoa had destroyed his father's valuable documents. So why was it Roronoa who hissed at him like a wild animal? And why was it Mihawk who hardly dared to breathe?

Shaking his head, Roronoa turned away from him and walked through the room, taking the book from Mihawk's armchair and pointing it at him.

"I know exactly who I am, Mihawk, and unlike you, I do not define myself by any names and titles, but only by my deeds, whether I meet my own demands, whether I can proudly confront my reflection. But apparently that's not enough for you." Roronoa snorted loudly. "Apparently nothing I do matters as long as I'm not the descendant of some big name, right?"

"Roronoa, that...”

"Don’t bother, I don't care. Go to your father and find out what you want to know, but don't think for a second, you'd get to know or understand me any better. Don't believe for one second that you're going to find out who I really am."

Almost powerless, Roronoa dropped the book back on Mihawk's armchair.

"You know, I've always been aware that you and I come from two completely different worlds and even if your overblown behavior sometimes really annoys me, that's part of you, too. I know I am too uneducated, uncultivated, and simpleminded for you, but I have always thought that you would still respect me for who I am. I've always thought you see who I really am. Tze, you think you know someone."

"Roronoa, please listen to me for a second..."

"No. I am tired. I don't want to listen to you anymore. Tomorrow morning, I will run my rounds and after that we will continue to train, and I will continue to bow to your will as my teacher." Roronoa walked to the door without even looking at him. "But as far as anything else is concerned, I don’t give a fuck about your opinion."

Suddenly he looked up and this gaze scared the hell out of Mihawk. He knew exactly of what day this deep, wounded gaze reminded him. Something told him that he was about to lose Roronoa.

Then the door slammed shut behind the youngster, leaving Mihawk in the freezing fireplace room. He hardly understood what had happened, why Roronoa had lost his temper and then his trust in Mihawk, but this specific gaze, which for the first time had been meant for him, Mihawk, filled him with an unfamiliar horror.

"He is wrong," he whispered to the accusatory silence.

What was wrong with him wanting to find out more about Roronoa's past? What was wrong with trying to get to the bottom of the mystery of Roronoa's strange mother and dead language? What was wrong with him hoping to find clues about why Roronoa possessed this unique ability?

None of this had anything to do with Mihawk's respect for the younger one, and if he happened to find out that Roronoa was perhaps really a descendant of Alciel, if he were to find out why his father feared the name Roronoa so much, there was nothing more to it, right?

After all, this would not change who Roronoa was or was not. It would not change his outstanding abilities and his tireless devotion, if at all, it would only benefit him. So why did Roronoa behave as if Mihawk had betrayed him?

Why was Roronoa the one outraged? Was not he the one who had simply destroyed foreign property so irrevocably? Should not Mihawk be the one to rush furious through the castle, while Roronoa would have to apologize on his knees for his reckless behavior?

No, Mihawk would now explain to this impetuous brat who was mistaken here and who was not. After all, he had done nothing more than get some information. He had wanted to do Roronoa a favor, damn it! He had not acted out of selfishness, but completely selfless.

Of course, he had already wondered since that evening at Sasaki why Roronoa, of all people, could read these books, why Roronoa had risen from the dead, and why Roronoa, of all people, should one day defeat him. It had to be fate that Roronoa had ended up on Sasaki, that Mihawk's father had accumulated documents about these books, that he knew what the name Roronoa might mean.

If Roronoa would not act so coyly all the time and would not try to avoid every explanation Mihawk asked for, he would not have had to travel all the way to the G-2 to ask his father. No, Roronoa was fully responsible for this situation, he was the one to blame.

Why did Roronoa not tell him how he ended up being reborn in this foreign body? Why did Roronoa not tell him the true reason why he had decided to work with Eizen? Why did Roronoa decide to challenge his monster in Mihawk's absence?

He stomped furiously through the dark castle, needed only a few breaths until he stood at the youngster's room door and after another breath, he tore it open.

"Roronoa, you must apologize immediately for your..."

Despite his anger, Mihawk could not prevent from blushing when he saw the completely exposed Roronoa in front of him, who had probably just come out of the bath. Within a heartbeat, the younger man's surprised facial expression changed into cold rejection.

"What do you want? Get lost and leave me alone. I don’t wanna talk to you anymore."

Mihawk urged himself to not look away, but rather to look directly at the other.

"But this discussion was not over yet, besides, this is my castle, and I can enter any room I wish."

Shaking his head, Roronoa bent down after some underpants lying on the floor.

"I thought this room is supposed to be mine and this castle is supposed be my home as well, or does this only count for the days when you are generous or for people who are worthy enough of you?" Sarcasm dripped from every word, and Mihawk grew angry again at the condescending way Roronoa spoke to him as he got dressed.

"Stop being ridiculous, Roronoa. But in a respectful argument, both sides have a right to be hear..."

" _A respectful argument_? Are fucking kidding me?!" Whatever garment Roronoa had just picked up, he carelessly threw it on the bed. "This is not an argument, a civilized discussion, no small dispute. You are the asshole, who messes with my past behind my back, although I have clearly said that I do not want to know about it! You are the asshole, who wants to reduce my whole life's work to the blood of some dead monarch, and when I tell you that I want to have some peace of mind, you follow me and dare to claim that I have to apologize! Who the hell of us is being disrespectful?"

Mihawk was not willing to be shamed by Roronoa that easily.

"So, first, you did not even give me the opportunity to speak, so how should I defend my point of view and appease you, except by following you? Moreover, you have not once forbidden any research concerning your past; you simply mentioned that you do not care for it. Furthermore, I have stated with no words that your achievements are less impressive just because you might descend from a special people. If anything, knowing your past could give you advantages. It could help you understand your powers and maybe you have a legacy that you must take on. That is why I think..."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake, you just don't get it!"

Only now did Mihawk notice that Roronoa was breathing harder as he leaned against the bedpost.

„Roronoa? “

"Fuck off. I'd have to change a long time ago, that’s it.”

Angry, the younger one looked at him.

"Okay, so this time I will be the one to explain _in very simple terms_ : You do not respect me. You think I'm a pretty capable swordsman and you kind of like me, but in the end, you don't respect me. I don't know if it's because I'm younger, or because I don't know how to behave, or just because I don't bow and scrape to you, but it seems to have something to do with the fact that I don't have the same background as you. You really want me to be special somehow, that I'm kind of..."

"That is not true, Roronoa," he interrupted the other, reluctantly, watching with concern how much Roronoa was sweating. "You are mistaken. There is hardly a person I respect as much as you."

"Oh, really?" Roronoa dropped on the bed, obviously he would have to transform soon, but he was too proud to do so. "So why didn't you just ask me? Why didn't you tell me beforehand that your father might know something that might be interesting? Why didn't you suggest that I come along and ask him myself? Maybe I would have told you then that I don't want to know any of this crap."

For a moment, Roronoa took a deep breath and rubbed the sweat off his forehead.

"But no, you just decided over my head to stir up my past. What did you think you would achieve this way? Did you want me to be grateful to you for poking around in things I don't want to know and don't care about? Did you want to be the shining hero who brings me the good news that I am the prodigal king's son of a lost dynasty?"

"Well, at least I had not expected to be lectured."

"You still treat me like a child who needs to be patronized by you, and that even though we've talked so many times about me making my own decisions, and I'm supposed to like that?"

Shaking his head, Mihawk folded his arms.

"I am not saying that I am acting rationally at all times, Roronoa, but you have said yourself that you can handle it, that you can endure me even if I am not the rational, controlled me, so..."

"That's not what it's all about..."

"But that is what it is all about! Maybe I should have asked you beforehand, but I could not have guessed that this subject is so sensitive for you. Maybe my intentions are not the purest, maybe I was too curious in areas that were private, but after you told so little about your past, I had no choices left. How can you believe that I could only appreciate you if you had a special origin? Do you really think so low of me?"

Now it seemed as if Roronoa was questioning his words for the first time when he remained silent for a moment, but that second passed quickly.

"What other choice did you leave me? What else should I think? You keep talking about how pathetic everyone else is. The World Aristocrats, the other Shichibukais, the politicians of your islands, other pirates, even your own family and friends; you always pretend that you are standing above them all, as if you were a damn god, better than anyone else, as if you were above every wrongdoing and had been implanted with wisdom and knowledge while still being in the womb."

Then Roronoa began to transform, but that could not stop him as he continued: "And every time we end up talking about those books, my past, or my mother, you always circled directly around my possible background. I know you fantasized that I could be a descendant of the last king of Alciel, why else would you have been so interested in my mother? You desperately wanted to believe that I am some mighty noble descendant who still might even be entitled to some gone kingdom, only for me to be worthy of you."

Mihawk turned his gaze away when Roronoa did not think about covering his bare chest.

"You are mistaken, Roronoa. Of course, all these almost arbitrary coincidences have aroused my curiosity, but regardless of what I would find in your past or not, it would not affect my view of you. It would not change who you are, not for me.”

"Oh, bullshit." Graciously, Roronoa pulled a shirt far too big for his small figure over his head and then began to tighten his bandages. "Of course, it would affect you in some way. You grew up in this world of names and titles and still boast about it. If you really didn't care, you wouldn't try to figure everything out by hook or by crook.”

Mihawk could not say much against that. Of course he could deny it, but if he was quite honest, the younger one was not completely wrong.

"And then I might have told you what I know."

These words made Mihawk listen. Roronoa looked at him almost sadly, no, rather resigned, the childish eyes were heavy and dull, the narrow lips little more than a thin line.

"What do you mean by that, Roronoa?"

"Do you remember what my mother called me?" The younger one replied with a counter-question.

"Of course, Ron, which means as much as child or descendant."

Roronoa nodded.

"And what did I call her?"

"Well, mother - Ni - if I remember correctly. Roronoa, what is your point?"

"I called her, Ro Ni, because..."

And then Mihawk suddenly understood.

"Because Ro is a respectful form of addressing," he muttered, wondering how he had missed it during their last conversation about Roronoa’s mother.

"Roronoa is not a name at all," Mihawk whispered, looking at the other, "it is a title."

He ruffled through his hair and leaned with one hand against the wall behind him.

"It is a title for the highly well-born descendant of a... a what? What does the Oa in your name mean?"

Roronoa shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know," he simply said.

"No, I do not believe you. Tell me the truth, Roronoa. Now you can give me the full answer. What kind of descendant are you?"

"And that's exactly what I meant," murmured the other, "that’s why I didn't want to tell you, because you're going to make a huge thing out of it now and..."

"But it is important, Roronoa! As I suspected, you are probably a descendant of Alciel and that means..."

"It means nothing!" Roronoa interrupted him again. "I won’t allow myself to be influenced by some dead people. My heritage has nothing to do with me and it won't shape my future, because I will do that myself."

Roronoa's view was completely incomprehensible to him. So, he tried to bypass this point of discussion.

"Well, Roronoa, but what kind of origin are we talking about?"

"I told you, I don't know." The younger one dodged his gaze. "To be honest, I didn't notice it until we talked about my mother. I don't think often about her or my childhood and somehow, I never made the connection. But when we talked about it, you said such weird things and suddenly I realized it and all of a sudden so many of her words and actions made sense, suddenly the woman from my memory is quite different and actually I don't know who my mother was."

Mihawk remained silent. He wondered whether Roronoa's anger from before was perhaps solely due to the uncertainty that his new knowledge about his past had brought, or whether his accusation that Mihawk would value him only because of a name might not have been entirely unfounded. 

"But why do you not want to find out who your mother was?" He asked simply. "Why do you not want to know as much about her as possible?"

"Because it doesn't matter," Roronoa replied firmly, "even if I looked under each stone, each book, and each poneglyph for information, it won't change the past. In the end, she will be none other than the proud woman in the patched dress who poisoned herself. And the same goes for any names, titles, or heritage. Even if I found out everything, it's all long gone, and I don't live my life to meet the demands of unknown ancestors. I have dedicated my life to my dream, my promise, and my oath, and no name, no title, and certainly no damn legacy will keep me from doing so."

For a long time, Mihawk looked at his student, tried to understand what Roronoa meant by this, and failed miserably. He did not understand what was so repulsive about the knowledge of one's own origin. He did not understand why Roronoa was so reluctant and so incensed. But then came a surprising realization.

"I have to admit," he said clearly, "that I cannot understand your motives in the least. But I realize that I might not have to. Whether I understand your views or not, I should at least accept them. I was so filled with my own desire to know more about your origins that I did not respect your decision to let it be, I apologize for that."

Roronoa stared at Mihawk with big eyes and an open mouth.

"However, I would like to stress that your reaction was far from appropriate as well. Burning my father's notes, I am very upset about this, and if you had told me the truth in the first place, I might have been more considerate." Now Roronoa raised an eyebrow in doubt. "After all, we agreed that we would be honest towards another."

After a second, Zoro nodded with a sigh.

"Yes, you're right. I am sorry that I did not tell you the truth and that I burned the papers. I shouldn’t have done that, my bad."

"Besides, you were very rude towards me and have..."

"Don’t stress it too much, will ya? You're an arrogant bastard and I'm not going to justify that.”

“Tze, you will never change, will you, Roronoa?"

The youngster grinned.

"You wouldn't want that." Then he got serious again. "So that’s it? I'm really damn tired and just want to sleep.”

"Well, I should lie down, too. But I still have one question."

Roronoa just looked at him, but Mihawk did not know how to ask what bothered him. For a few breaths, he stared at Roronoa in silence until the other groaned unnerved. Appeasing, Mihawk raised both arms.

"We both said some things today that would have been better not said out loud and I wanted to... I just want to make sure that we..."

"So for my part, I've forgotten most of what you or I said already," Roronoa interrupted roughly. "Besides, it was just _a respectful argument_ , wasn’t it? So don’t get your damn knickers in a twist."

Although Mihawk really did not want to approve the language, these words made it much easier for him.

"That means it would not be presumptuous if I asked you to be truly honest with me from now on? No more lies?"

"No idea," Roronoa grumbled, pulling the sheet over his legs, "but if it calms you down, fine with me. As long as I can go to sleep now."

Shaking his head, Mihawk said goodbye with a smile, hearing Roronoa turn off his bed light before closing the door. This evening was supposed to give him a lot to brood about, but the only thought that came to his mind was that there was probably no one who addressed Roronoa as respectfully as he did, first unconsciously and from now on consciously. He was amused that such a thought made him so happy, but when he reached his room the smile faded. The opposite door was open and Jiroushin leaned in the door frame.

"Tension in paradise?" He asked without any wit in his voice. "Have been arguing quite loudly."

"My apologies if we disturbed your night's sleep, Jiroushin. That was not our intention."

The blond waved it off.

"It’s fine. If you want, I have a minute. "

This offer surprised Mihawk almost more than the general presence of the blond.

"Maybe another time, Jirou. Now I just long for my bed," he politely refused, opening his room door.

"You've really changed a lot, Mihawk, I hardly recognize you." Those words made Mihawk pause for a moment while Jiroushin continued: "You'd never argue with anyone like that before, and you'd never smiled at anyone like that before either."

"Jirou, I am too exhausted to filter out your motives between those lines, so please be brief."

"I'm just wondering, Hawky, are you really aware of what you feel for this boy? Because I don't think this liaison will end happy for both of you."

"Jiroushin, what are you talking about? Roronoa and I do not lead such a relationship, you should know."

Now the other looked at him seriously.

"Oh, don't worry, I know that and Zoro knows that, but the question is, are you aware of that?"

Clicking his tongue, Mihawk opened the door.

"What ridiculous thoughts, Jiroushin, the lack of sleep makes you delusional."

"I'm just worried about you, Hawky. No matter what I think of Zoro, I can't stand by and watch you walk your road to ruin. I do actually like him, you know, but if you don't take good care, he will mean your downfall and I can't and won't allow that.”

_It would be a great pity if, after Jimbei and Moria, the ranks of the Shichibukai were weakened by another member._

_Now you've once again caught an innocent being and I'm not going to watch you destroy another life._

_This name means only mischief for you and this child. The last Roronoa is dead and that is how it should stay._

_However, I don't know if I can forgive you for having forced such a stigma on this child_.

"Are you threatening me, Jiroushin?" Mihawk asked in a sinister way, recalling all the words of friend and foe that had already predicted his and Roronoa's demise.

"No, not at all. I just ask you to take care of yourself and maintain emotional distance from Zoro, as it should be between student and teacher."

With that, the Vice Admiral walked back into his room and left Mihawk behind.

Why did they all say that? Why did all the people in his life seem to agree on this?

Whether Eizen, Nataku, Gat, or Kanan, even Jiroushin! They all warned Mihawk, either that he would mean Roronoa's misery, or vice versa. Most of the words had been indifferent to him, but he just remembered every doubt he ever had, every dispute he had ever fought with Roronoa.

Could it be that Mihawk just made a serious mistake? Could it be that, for the first time in his life, he misjudged a situation? Could it be that Jiroushin was right? Did the road, he and Roronoa had chosen, lead them to ruins?

Mihawk did not know, but he remembered well that he had once, almost half a year ago, decided to keep his distance from Roronoa, and that he had failed miserably. He had once feared exactly what Jiroushin had suspected. So why did he just not want to give meaning to Jiroushin's words?

_So, to make this clear once and for all, I can make my own decisions, no matter what you or some idiot says, and I won't let anyone take that right away. For all I care, you are my downfall or the incarnate misfortune. But do you know what? These are all your problems!_

But then he understood, and the doubts faded as quickly as they had come.

_You know, I'm strong and I have an even stronger will. I can manage you. Because I am strong and because I can take care of myself and make decisions for myself._

They all did not know Roronoa, not the way Mihawk knew him. They all underestimate him, as Mihawk had done so many times in the past and sometimes still did.

_So, stop disrespecting my decisions. I am old enough to choose the people in my life. You're really annoying, but I can deal with you most of the time, so don't pretend I'm not responsible for all this here, as if you were to blame for anything. I am a Roronoa and a Roronoa does not let anyone make decisions for themselves._

Only Mihawk knew how strong Roronoa really was and now he understood why Roronoa had been so hurt. Mihawk knew who Roronoa really was, he could see it because Roronoa had shown him his true face over and over again, but for whatever reason, Mihawk had forgotten it, simply forgotten. He had cared too much about Roronoa and for a moment had forgotten to trust in him, to really perceive him.

Smiling quietly, Mihawk left the hallway.

Now he owed Jiroushin even more gratitude, without his warning he might have noticed far too late that he was threatening to stray from the right road.


	48. Chapter 44 - Yoru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> I hope you're all doing well (as well as possible with what the hell is going on in this world...), my life is a little bit busy right now, but I hope it will slow down to the end of this year. Despite everything going on right now I'm extremely excited about next year, and I believe it will be a year of change and growth, even more than this one, especially in writing, so I look forward to post every single time to share a little bit with the world ;-)  
> I hope wherever you are and at whatever time you read it, this fic gives you a little bit peace of mind (or probably rather headaches... sorry I forgot, what idiots we were talking about ;-P have fun with them, they try to behave today)
> 
> See you monday!

Chapter 44 - Yoru

-Mihawk-

Breakfast was unusually stiff. Roronoa was still running his rounds – to Mihawk's horror, Perona had told him that despite the long night, his little frog had gotten up at the usual early hour to do his morning exercise – while Perona, under the suspicious eyes of the Human Drills, did not let herself be discouraged from fostering the farm garden, so that Jiroushin and Mihawk ate alone at the long dining table.

Normally, the Vice Admiral's loudly joking voice would fill the room, but he was silent, almost intentionally dodging Mihawk’s gaze. Did he regret what he had told him the previous night? Would Jiroushin have preferred to lie to him and conceal his honest thoughts? 

At the beginning of their meal, they had talked seriously about the past two weeks of training; had discussed what Jiroushin had taught Roronoa, what had worked well and what had caused difficulties. They had illuminated lengthily what methods Jiroushin had used and how Roronoa had been able to implement them. In general, Mihawk had made sure that they did not leave out anything that could be relevant. He had to know every detail.

But at some point everything had been said and even the twentieth demand had not revealed any more surprises, so that they had silently continued their meal, unable to maintain a conversation; for which Mihawk of course had no talent, which however usually did not cause any difficulties at all for Jiroushin.

Suddenly the door opened and Roronoa stumbled in; his long, wild hair barely tamed by a hairband, sweaty and dirty, but grinning, he held up hand towards Jiroushin with his index and middle finger stretched.

"Eighty rounds," he said proudly.

Mihawk had learned that the other two had agreed that Roronoa should increase his morning unit so that he would not fall further behind himself – an almost doomed undertaking that additionally took much time – and for this reason Roronoa now apparently trained three times as often in this form as in his true body.

"Very good," Jiroushin praised him far too enthusiastically for Mihawk's taste, "you quickly got better. Did you also apply Busoshoku Haki as I advised you?"

"Of course, I'm not stupid," Roronoa waved it off unimpressed.

"You should take a shower and change," Dulacre advised coolly as Roronoa was about to sit down at the table. "You are very sweaty."

"Urgh," the youngest murmured, but obeyed and turned around.

"I also want you to transform. We are not going to train you in this body today.”

Now the two people present looked at him with great surprise.

"Not?" Jiroushin asked.

"Do you want to continue where we stopped last night?" Roronoa asked.

"Oh, Roronoa, do not be so naive. A glance tells me that your Haki has not recovered enough, especially after that short night. After yesterday's success, we will not risk anything today. I think after a day or two of rest we can take the next step without any worries."

"Without any worries?" Jiroushin repeated sarcastically.

"And why should I turn?" Roronoa reluctantly opposed. "Shouldn't I use this time to become stronger in this body?"

Mihawk could not prevent a smile.

"If you want to, we can do that, Roronoa. I just thought you would like to try something new today."

"And what?" Roronoa was extremely suspicious today.

"Well, after bamboo, spade, and axe, maybe you want to coat a real sword?"

Roronoa stared at him, but then an unusually broad grin crept over his otherwise serious face and he nodded only before rushing out of the room, looking almost like a little girl, who expected to find a new toy in the hallway.

"After yesterday, you already want to burden him with another challenge?" Jiroushin scolded him disapprovingly.

"I want to reward him, Jiroushin. Roronoa took his biggest hurdle yesterday and now he gets what he wants most."

"And that would be the coating of swords?"

"Maybe not that precisely, but after more than half a year Roronoa will soon be allowed to fight with his swords again, as soon as he masters the coating."

Now the blond looked up.

"You didn't let him train with his swords all this time?"

"Of course not. If he had destroyed them, it would have been my fault as his teacher. He was not ready yet, but soon he will be."

Jiroushin remained silent for a moment, probably thinking about his rapier, who was a far better friend to him than Mihawk ever wanted to be.

"You are a cruel man, Mihawk, especially towards the people you care about."

He did not respond. He did not want to agree to such a statement but could not deny it.

"Listen, Hawky. Because of last night, what I said... I think..."

"You obviously have every right to express your opinion, Jirou, and I should be grateful that such a good-natured person like you is worried about me."

Unwell, Jiroushin scratched his chin.

"Yes, that may be, but what I actually want to say is..."

“What you want to say is irrelevant, Jiroushin. You can express your opinion, but you must accept that I do not give it any value. It does not matter to me whether you or anyone else fears that Roronoa’s and my relationship will cause disaster or not. As long as Roronoa does not reject me, I will not turn him away."

Shaking his head, Jiroushin stood up.

"And again, you’re so selfish, Mihawk. I understand that you like him; he understands your love for swords like hardly anyone since Sharak, perhaps even more than even she ever could. But what you do will destroy him and therefore necessarily yourself. You overestimate Zoro. He is self-confident and does not hide his light under a bushel. That's why you two think he's strong enough. But he hardly knows you, not when you're really angry, not when you can't hold back. Zoro doesn't know what he's getting into and you willingly let him walk right into his misery; he doesn't know who you really are. He overestimates himself and because you believe him, you overestimate him too."

Elegantly, Mihawk also got up and walked towards Jiroushin, encountering his rational, serious gaze with a fleeting smile.

"You are mistaken, Jiroushin," he almost whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder before continuing, "I am probably the only one who does not underestimate Roronoa. I am probably the only one who really sees Roronoa for who he is."

He went to the fireplace and reached for one of the swords, but then thought differently and headed to the door.

"And you are wrong about another thing, my dear friend." He did not even stop. "It may be that Roronoa hardly knows me, hardly knows anything about my life, my past, and yet he knows exactly who I am. Who knows, maybe he understands me even better than you do. I feel like he is looking through my mask, whether I like it or not.”

With these words he left Jiroushin behind, but his words echoed through the empty corridors like a final warning.

"Despite your sharp hawk eyes, you're blind, Hawky."

-Zoro-

Surprised, he noticed that only an unusually ill-tempered looking Jiroushin was waiting for him in the entrance hall.

"Where is Mihawk?" Zoro asked grumpily. Had that bastard changed his mind?

Jiroushin shrugged his shoulders, apparently far from happy.

"Say," the soldier muttered, folding his arms, "do you remember what we were talking about a few days ago? When we talked about your crew?"

Confused, Zoro recalled the strange - really awkward - conversation after their training four or five days ago. Jiroushin had been very curious and had asked him a lot about the others, especially Robin had apparently caught his eye. They had also talked about the lustful cook and Franky. But why did Jiroushin pick it up again?

The soldier had asked him odd questions and had repeatedly talked about some weird feelings, which in case of doubt could hinder any agreement, any plan, even any dream. It had sounded almost like a warning, but Zoro could not imagine that feelings – something indefinable that could neither be touched nor fully understood – should have such a power. He had told Jiroushin very clearly back then that he would not be distracted neither from his dream nor from protecting his crew, especially not by some useless feelings.

"I know you've made it pretty clear that you just want to focus on your dream and on protecting your crew and you don't care about all these other things."

"Hmm," Zoro grumbled, uncomfortable what the other would ask him now.

"But what if somebody of your crew felt differently? Would that change your mind?"

Zoro tilted his head.

"Why should it?" He said simply. "My opinion has nothing to do with the feelings of others. Why should I be influenced by this?"

"Because that attitude could hurt people who are important to you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zoro coolly denied.

He didn't know what that was going on. He had been looking forward to an interesting lesson with the Shichibukai. At last, he would coat swords. But now Jiroushin talked about emotions? Such conversations annoyed him and were only pointless talk in his eyes; he was not interested in stuff like that.

"Well," Jiroushin explained, obviously trying to maintain a teacher's serene voice, "if you don't deviate from your decision even though you're aware of their feelings, doesn’t that mean that you don't care about their feelings? That you don't value them enough to at least include their feelings in your consideration?"

Zoro was more than confused.

"But those are two completely different things," he said simply. "So, let's be clear. Of course, no one can influence what they feel; feelings are just there, whether we like it or not. But only an idiot would give in to their feelings without rhyme or reason, I certainly wouldn't. And no one from my crew would turn anything like this into an uprising. We really have more important things to worry about, so could we please concentrate on training?"

Jiroushin sighed heavily.

"You are just as bad as Mihawk when it comes to such things. It's naive to think that you never have to deal with the feelings of others. But if you don't know how such feelings feel and are not willing to value the feelings of others, what would you do if someone who is important to you is facing you with such feelings?"

This question surprised Zoro. He had never thought that far. He had to admit that before his conversations with Jiroushin and Mihawk, he had never thought much about anything aside of swordfighting.

The crew didn't really talk about feelings, empathy, consideration, and stuff like that. They were all just the way they were and all of them got along more or less. Yes, it was true that he had talked about this stuff once or twice because of Robin – of course, every time she had been the one, who had wanted to talk about it and he had just been too lazy to leave the room – and yes, Robin had often told him that people simply showed their feelings differently.

She had liked to compare Zoro to the cook to explain to him why the annoying cook showed his emotions so dissolute and bothersome; that idiot fell in love with every female being who crossed his path. According to Robin, the cook was already so attracted to a woman’s physical attributes that he hardly could or wanted to fight his feelings.

Zoro, on the other hand, had a hard time understanding it. He saw whether a person was trained and strong or not, but he simply could not comprehend this attraction Robin had tried to make him understand. He had accepted these conversations rather unwillingly. What did he have to care about why the cook made a fool of himself every time Nami walked around in a bikini? What did he have to care when someone else couldn't keep their feelings in check?

He didn't need to think about it, and he didn't need annoying conversations about it, not with Robin, not with Mihawk, and certainly not with Jiroushin. But he apparently owed him an answer, an answer he didn't have. What should he answer? Another person's feelings didn't bother or interest him.

It didn't matter if the cook and Zoro didn't like each other and argued accordingly often, as long as the crew didn't suffer from it, and it was the other way around, too. As long as feelings didn't lead to problems within the crew, he didn't care who was feeling what and why. He simply did not understand what Jiroushin was trying to do, but he was still waiting for an answer with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised.

Fortunately, at that moment the door opened and the Shichibukai came in. On his back strapped the most powerful sword in the world and a barely visible smile on his narrow lips. He looked attentively at Zoro and then Jiroushin.

"I seem to interrupt an interesting conversation, am I?"

Jiroushin was silent, his arms still folded.

"Not really," Zoro disagreed. "Can we finally start training now?"

"Of course, even if your impatience is far from pleasant."

Zoro snorted only contemptuously.

"Well, let us begin."

"Wait a moment, Hawky," Jiroushin grumbled as they walked down the stairs and left the castle behind, "where do you have the practice swords? I'm not going to lend you mine.”

"As if I were expecting you to,” the Shichibukai replied only, then turned to Zoro. "You see, Roronoa, most students practice coating with simple blunt swords. Only when they can easily coat them in battle, they are allowed to approach real swords. A good student breaks only one or two practice swords before developing a sense for quantity and strength of the armor, a bad one might even need ten swords, right Jiroushin? What is the sad record from the cadet academy?"

The Vice Admiral snorted: "I don't know, but I remember a pretty simple guy a few years ago who took four whole weeks and certainly broke somewhat hundred swords. At some point, he was given a wooden club, because wood is much more flexible and forgives more than metal."

Mihawk laughed almost delighted, but said nothing until they reached the ruins, then he faced Zoro again.

"So if you were looking for a normal education, Roronoa, I would now give you a sword-shaped lump of steel. But since you want to be the best – and because you already manage cell coating – and you are taught by the best, I have a very special task for you." In a single elegant movement, the Shichibukai pulled the sword from his back and placed its tip precisely under Zoro's chin. “Coat Yoru!”

“What?”

“What?!”

Zoro was confused, Jiroushin frantic.

"What are you talking about, Hawky? Nobody would just offer their sword to a novice like..."

"But he is not a novice, Jirou, and Yoru is not a simple sword. It will show Roronoa how much Haki he needs without us having to do anything at all. I tell you, this will be the easiest lesson ever, at least for me."

Yoru at Zoro's neck hummed softly as so often, perhaps a little more vivid than usual; was it looking forward to its new task?

"Still! You've seen how easily he breaks the bamboo. Shall I show you the broken axe? Just because you're lazy and want to have an easy day after staying up too long, you can't just use Yoru..."

"The strongest sword in the world," Zoro whispered, as the Shichibukai swung it through the air and then offered him the handle, "strong enough to withstand Mihawk when he no longer controls himself and uses all his strength."

Then he looked at Jiroushin.

"I can't destroy it."

With big eyes, the blond remained silent while Zoro humbly weighed the powerful weapon in his hands. Of course, the Black Sword was much heavier than his katanas, but it surprised him how comfortable it felt under his skin, how comfortable it was to hold. This weapon was truly a masterpiece.

"Be not mistaken, Roronoa. Even Yoru is not indestructible, but it probably will not allow someone like you to even scratch it." What exactly the Shichibukai meant by this, probably only he knew. "Take a moment to get to know this new weapon, to feel it, and then I want you to harden your hands and forearms as you usual do with the bamboo, and then spread the armor evenly over the sword. Pay close attention to the thickness, think of each cell. The hardness is unimportant at first, start soft, understood?"

Zoro just nodded.

He found it difficult to concentrate on the words of the Shichibukai while Yoru spoke to him incessantly. It was as haunting as a thunderbolt, as pleasant as the pattering of the rain, as steady as the whisper of the forest, and as captivating as the sound of the sea. He closed his eyes, heard Yoru constantly humming quietly, felt the knowledge of countless fights tingling through his fingers, crawling up his forearms, wrapping him like the gentle embrace of a merciful death.

His heart pounded faster, this sword was powerful, not comparable to Josei, certainly not with his Kitetsu. He couldn't just master this sword, right now Yoru simply allowed him to lead it. Like the kindness of an experienced horse, the Black Sword did not take advantage of his ignorance, but let Zoro try himself out, but in every heartbeat, he felt the warning that even Yoru's patience was not infinite.

Slowly, he settled to the rhythm of Yoru's humming, had completely forgotten everything around him, and adjusted his breathing. Holding this sword alone was a challenge itself, he could hardly imagine even moving or fighting. Even now he could feel the deep connection to the Shichibukai, even though the other had walked away a few steps. Even now he knew that Yoru was watching over the Shichibukai and only allowed Zoro to hold it because it trusted Mihawk or maybe it was the other way around. Mihawk trusted the Black Sword, like an old dog that was known not to bite the annoying toddler, even if he pulled on its ears.

Zoro couldn't help but wonder how old this sword might be and how many masters it had served already. It radiated a wisdom and calmness that made even the Wado-Ichi-Monji look young and impulsive, and yet it did not seem tired or worn for a second.

Yoru wanted to fight, wanted to taste blood, but it bowed to the will of his master, who rarely fought. The question was, did Yoru bend because Mihawk had conquered and mastered it, or was their relationship completely different? The Black Sword didn't seem to be a sword that could be easily defeated, not even by the best swordsman in the world.

Inwardly, Zoro expressed his gratitude to the weapon in his hand, asking for patience and for forgiveness for his mistakes before he grabbed it harder and began with his coating. Almost immediately Yoru's hum became quieter and more thoughtful, as if it were listening, at the same time Zoro's breath became slower as he tried to follow the rhythm, almost feeling how this even hum relaxed him.

As the first drops of his Hakis glided over the handle of the sword, Yoru seemed to vibrate joyfully under his skin, almost welcoming him, inviting him to trust the Black Sword – the sword that had once marked and almost killed him – to entrust his life to it.

What an eccentric sword. When at the same time it warned him not to let too much Haki flow and squirmed slightly whenever Zoro became too rough. Grinning, Zoro rolled his head slightly from one shoulder to the other to release the tension in his neck. This unit would probably only be relaxing for his teacher.

-Mihawk-

With a broad grin, he watched Roronoa holding his sword. His eyes wide like a child who was allowed to hold the ship’s steering wheel for the first time in his life.

The youngster barely listened to him as he gave him instructions, but that hardly surprised Mihawk. Yuro's voice was as powerful as that of an ancient creature, and Roronoa would not be able to escape this sound, even if he wanted to.

He had been impressed back then that Roronoa could hear Yoru. It was nothing unusual that people who could cut iron also heard the voices of their weapons. But the Black Sword did not speak to everyone and did not allow everyone to hear its voice. Much like Mihawk, Yoru seemed to like his little frog.

Jiroushin next to him snorted indignantly as Roronoa closed his eyes and Mihawk walked a few steps away to an overturned pillar and leaned against it. He decided to ignore his best friend. Of course, he understood Jiroushin's doubts and concerns, but he was indifferent. Yoru was willing to teach Roronoa and no one could teach how to coat a sword as well as the Black Sword, Mihawk knew well enough from his own experience.

It was also fascinating to watch Roronoa getting to know Yoru. He did not swing it around like some idiot, nor did he stare at it blindly. No, he had closed his eyes and listened, directed the tip towards the ground, but without touching the earth. He stood still, slightly swaying his head to the rhythm of the sword, a gentle if serious expression on his face. If Mihawk listened very carefully, he even thought Roronoa was humming quietly, truly fascinating.

"You're doing that because of last night, right?" Jiroushin interrupted his inspiring observations. "You're doing this to teach me a lesson. I tell you to keep him at distance and you urge Yoru in his hand. You pretend to reward him, but in truth you just want..."

"Could you be silent for just a moment?" He did not turn his gaze away from his disciple, who now grinned softly. "Yoru is the best teacher in this field. It will not allow Roronoa to make the coating too thick or fragile. Together with Yoru he will hardly need a day and that is a good thing; you know what Roronoa is about to face now that he has tamed his monster."

"Still, you would rarely allow another person to hold it and he may even train with it."

"Yoru agreed, otherwise I probably would not have dared to. But one has little to do with the other. I do not think much of your opinion and I dislike your behavior." Jiroushin wanted to disagree, but Mihawk continued to speak: “Unfortunately, I could not listen to what you were talking to Roronoa about, but I could tell from his facial expression that you were probably bothering him as well.”

"You have no idea what bothering actually means."

"Whatever you do, stop it. You will not change my mind and I do not want you to make Roronoa uncomfortable with any far-fetched claims."

"Unless you ban me from this island, you will not be able to ban my mouth, Hawky."

Mihawk wanted to continue the dispute, but then Roronoa started with the coating and listening to Yoru's whispers he could hear how exciting it had to be. He raised a hand to silence Jiroushin and whispered: "But I would never let anything like this affect my teaching methods. Watch and learn."

Again, Jiroushin snorted annoyed, but he remained silent, thankfully.

Slowly, the black armor of Roronoa's hands spread across the cross-shaped handle, almost hesitantly licking over the night-black blade, but gradually Roronoa Zoro coated the best sword in the world.

It would only take a few hours before Roronoa could put an even, robust armor around Yoru that would actually be suitable for a fight.

Mihawk was delighted, as he had expected, Roronoa was not only extremely talented, but Yoru also the perfect teacher. Of course, Roronoa's quick success was only due to the thorough preparation to which Mihawk had forced him. Just because they had spent weeks and months for Roronoa to use Haki as natural as possible, Roronoa was now able to improve that quickly.

"Truly impressive," Jiroushin muttered beside him, inspecting the black blade in detail, while Mihawk threatened to burst by pride under the praise – which clearly was not meant for him. "I have rarely seen anyone successfully coat a sword so quickly. Remarkable."

Nodding, Mihawk left the Vice Admiral behind and approached Roronoa, who had focused his eyes on Yoru. His breath was evenly, as evenly as his armor covered Yoru, but he saw in Roronoa’s face that Yoru clearly challenged him.

"Well, Roronoa, listen to me." His little frog nodded without looking up. "This state should become as ordinary for you as the general use of Haki."

Roronoa snorted quietly. "I don't think holding Yoru can ever feel ordinary."

With a smile, Mihawk had to agree.

"I am of course aware that Yoru dislikes even the slightest deviation in the density of your armor. That is, once Yoru no longer corrects you, you will be able to wrap even the most fragile good without letting it burst. Then at the latest you can also coat your own swords with complete peace of mind."

Now Roronoa looked at him, a mischievous grin on his thin lips.

“It hasn't stopped nagging even once since I've been coating it.”

Shrugging, Mihawk raised both hands.

"Of course. Yoru is the strongest sword in the world, almost indestructible, but at the same time it is probably the most sensitive as well and suffers the rougher it is treated. The reason it lets me lead it, even if I sometimes fight quite uncontrolled, is that my Haki control is the finest in the world. I am the only one who is able to lead Yoru in such a way that it can enjoy a fight without suffering."

"In short," Roronoa grumbled, briefly stretching his neck, "it will never stop nagging."

"Exactly, unless you can lead it as finely as I can."

Jiroushin snorted in the background, but Mihawk was not impressed.

"And now that you produced a reasonable armor, the next step it is, Roronoa." He spread his arms wide. "Attack me."

To his surprise, Roronoa did not even hesitate. He had expected Roronoa to make a step back and evaluate that order, but no, he simply attacked.

"You cheeky brat." With ease, Mihawk parried his own sword with his coated arm. "To attack me without even thinking."

"I did think," Roronoa replied simply, holding Yoru as if he had never led another sword, "this exercise is like any other. First in peace, then in motion, and when I attack you, you can better observe how even my armor is."

This absolutely accurate statement surprised Mihawk almost more than the attack.

"Besides," Roronoa continued with a grin, pointing to Yoru, "you like to see me fighting with Yoru, don't you?"

"Tze, by no means,” Mihawk denied this little sin, "and now continue to attack me before either me or Yoru lose patience."

Roronoa followed his order far too willingly and it turned into an entertaining evening, so pleasing that Mihawk almost forgot his best friend's mistrust, but of course he was too relentless.

In this way the upcoming units and days passed. A constant mixture of coating swords as Roronoa Zoro and also as Lady Loreen and in between they repeatedly got closer to Roronoa's inner monster.

But any caution seemed in vain, because now that Roronoa had broken the monster and became a demon himself, he seemed to be able to control this condition better and better, even if he seemed to be hardly aware of the effects, at least for now, although Mihawk was well aware that this would change at some point, but Roronoa would have to deal with them, like he had dealt with every challenge so far.

Mihawk enthusiastically followed the progress of his little frog, he really had not expected this development in less than a year. If it went on like this...

Soon Roronoa's real training could begin...


	49. Chapter 45 - Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody!
> 
> Who's ready for some little chat?! No one? Well sorry, that's what the next chapter will be, so take your favorite sort of hot beverage (for me it will always be hot chocolate), snuggle into some warm clothes or fluffy blanket, and enjoy this rather calm chapter ;-)
> 
> As always, I dearly appreciate your comments, thank you for taking your time to feed this poor writer's soul^^
> 
> See you friday!

Chapter 45 - Weakness

-Mihawk-

"I did not agree to his," he said, knocking firmly on the table, "I forbid it!"

"You can't forbid it," Roronoa grumbled from the far end of the table, without even looking up from the newspaper.

"Of course I can!" Now Mihawk turned to his little frog, who had ignored their conversation until just now. "I am the lord of this island."

"But no king of those monkeys." Roronoa still didn't even give him the honor of looking at him. "If they help Perona, just let them."

"Stay out of this, Roronoa. This has nothing to do with you."

"Stop making such a fuss about this. Not like she asked you to help her."

"I... I didn't ask them either," Perona muttered, rubbing her hands. "But what was I supposed do when they just started to help me?"

Mihawk glared at Perona, who sat opposite him at the dinner table, long forgotten her by now cold dinner.

"I do not care what you did or did not do. You wanted to revive the garden in the backyard, and I allowed it..."

"Not that you actually had a choice given you weren't even there."

"... but you have no say over the front yard and the Humandrills are not welcomed there. I forbid that they just dig it up!" Mihawk decided to ignore Roronoa's interjection, who just turned a page.

"But I didn’t do anything," Perona replied desperately, "they just started working. I didn't encourage them to do anything, nor did I give them orders, they wouldn't listen to me anyway."

"Then I will eradicate them once and for all. One way or another, I have been far too lenient towards those beasts for far too long.”

"Oh, just shut up." Loudly groaning, Roronoa slammed the newspaper shut at the end of the table. "Neither Perona nor the monkeys are to blame for your bad mood. It's a garden, damn it, let them dig it up, it’s not like you actually care."

"Could you, only for once please, not interfere, Roronoa. This has nothing to do with you. I am the lord of the island and the Humandrills have always been indifferent to me, as warriors of the forest they at least had the benefit of taking care of unwanted visitors, mostly," he added, looking at Perona deprecative, "but now they dare to plough my land like farmers? I left them the forest behind the ruins, but this..."

"Perona, just get lost. I handle him."

As if she had just been waiting for this, she swiftly jumped up and rushed out of the room faster than Mihawk had thought she was capable of.

"Roronoa," he growled at the other, "no matter what you say, this discussion is not over. It is my castle, my island, and..."

"Calm down." Roronoa rose, came over to him, and settled on a chair opposite to Mihawk. "The truth is that you don't care about a few stupid monkeys helping Perona. You said yourself that you don't really care about the island, as long as nobody touches the castle."

Mihawk pushed his plate away and looked at Roronoa seriously.

"Actually, you're annoyed by Eizen's letter, right?" Roronoa leaned back. "I don't like it either, okay? But it’s not Perona’s fault and I think it could be worse than these monkeys running after her like little puppies. It's good if they make themselves useful, less work for us."

"You are aware that neither you nor I are actually working in this household?" Mihawk said coolly.

"Well, we train all day and when Perona does the work, we should at least leave it to her how she does it."

Mihawk could not disagree with that. In fact, Jiroushin had helped Perona from time to time during his stay, and both Roronoa and himself had cooked a few times – which should be avoided in the future – but most of the work Perona did on her own and even though Mihawk found her extremely annoying, it was pleasant to find a warm meal and freshly washed clothes after a day of hard work. Roronoa also seemed to accept her for whatever reason, so Mihawk sighed and gave in with a nod.

"Fine, for all I care. If that will silence you."

Roronoa snorted: "I'm not the one who gets so upset about some stupid letter."

"Roronoa, he uses you for his purposes. You are hopefully aware that he does not take you to all these meetings as decoration, but to..."

"Oh gosh, just shut up. Of course I know that, Mihawk, but it's too late now, don't you think? We can't keep discussing this stuff every time some letter arrives, okay? It is the way it is now and I'm annoyed, too, but you’re not making it any better."

He did not like being criticized by Roronoa and he did not agree with him, but recalling the past few weeks, he decided that it was probably wiser to avoid another dispute. Sighing, he rose and began to clear the table.

"When did you grow up like that, Roronoa? I am not used to you being the voice of reason.”

"Tze," the other grumbled, and started to help. "Wouldn't be necessary if you stopped being an idiot."

"Says the man who wanted to cut off his own feet during a fight and buried himself under a burning tower."

"Pah, I don't need to be scolded by some snob with a shirt fetish."

Almost harmonious, they teased each other and removed the traces of the past dinner. For a few minutes, the mood became lighter and Mihawk forgot that his student was so easily irritated lately, until Roronoa brought the conversation back to the letter and the corners of his mouth dropped down again.

"But you know you can come along this time?"

"Oh, how kind. Should I feel honored that this shady politician invites me?" Mihawk was far from delighted that Eizen obviously wanted to make a fool oh him over and over again, especially in front of Roronoa's eyes.

"Then don't, damn it, you're so annoying today." Roronoa groaned and withdrew the letter he had just offered Mihawk. "It was just a suggestion, I thought you would find it interesting to see the new headquarters. But if you don't want to, then I just go on my own. It’s only for a few days, so it doesn’t matter, right?"

Only now Mihawk noticed – unfortunately too late again – that Roronoa was also in a very bad mood.

"Roronoa, I...," he began appeasing, but Roronoa waved him off and went to the fireplace, where he began to pile up unnecessarily much firewood, which would only make it difficult to ignite. 

_"_ Stop _Roronoaing_ me all the time, especially if it’s only because you can't stand if I oppose you."

"Why are you suddenly so upset? You were happy a few seconds ago or is it because I took Yoru away from you again."

"Of course not!" Roronoa did not sound convincing as he continued to pile wood in the fireplace, an activity he usually never did. Mihawk could not remember if he was honest, if Roronoa had ever lit the fire himself. "But you pretend like you’re the only one having a hard time here. In case you forgot I am the one who has to act like some sweet girl in high-heels!"

Once again, Mihawk had forgotten how easy it was to irritate Roronoa currently, and he had probably clearly underestimated how much Roronoa was bothered by this subject. Maybe it was about more than he had thought. So this time it was up to Mihawk to lead the conversation in the right direction.

"Well, you signed this contract, Roronoa, and even though I dislike it and would prefer you breaking it rather today than tomorrow, you probably had your reasons..."

"Do you think I don't know that?!"

Roronoa threw the wood, he had just held, so harshly against his pile that it burst apart like an explosion. Logs flew around and crashed to the ground around Roronoa like fallen warriors. So much for pouring oil on troubled water.

"Nah!" Mihawk had raised his index finger while Roronoa stared at him like a wild, cornered beast.

Surprised, Roronoa grabbed his temples and turned his gaze away.

"Sorry," he murmured, "I haven't even noticed it."

Smiling mildly, he watched as Roronoa inhaled deeply several times and his eyes regained human norm.

"It is not always that easy, is it? The downside of your craving to defeat me." He joined Roronoa on the floor and collected the wood. "But I think you are doing very well. Even these days, I am reluctant to control myself as well as you do after just a few days. On the other hand, you have always rarely let yourself be controlled by your own feelings.”

Roronoa still took deep breaths.

"I'm almost as annoying as you," he growled, squatting down, "getting upset so quickly because of something like that...” He put his hands behind the back of his head and just fell back. On the floor, he stared at the ceiling. Mihawk decided not to let this small remark bother him, favoring this fragile peace.

"Oh, no worries, Roronoa. You may have special abilities, but a monster is a monster and, in the beginning, it was difficult for everyone of us. I think you are doing quite well."

"Well, thank you, the judgment of an island lord who has just threatened to wipe out an entire race just because they are digging up some dirt reassures me immensely."

With a smile, Mihawk began to pile up the necessary wood and to remove the rest. It would be easy to get upset about the youngster’s words, but over the last few weeks – and actually months – he had learned that Roronoa said straight away what he thought, no matter how ugly that might be, but that he did not mean to be disrespectful beyond saying the truth.

"You are doing me injustice, Roronoa."

"Oh, I do that?"

"As I said, it is normal. You are now your own demon, everything buried in the depths of your conscience that might question reason and compassion, is now on the surface of your emotions. It will take some time before you can control such unusually strong and negative feelings."

"Yes, I know," Roronoa snorted behind him, "you've told me that so many times, but it's annoying. I'm nastier than during my time of the month and that’s for weeks. Honestly, it’s freaking hard to stay patient."

Mihawk blushed as the other spoke so freely about his female problems. Luckily, Roronoa could not see that.

"Well, on the bright side, for once I can see behind your so serene mask. How else would I have learned that you are so annoyed about Eizen?"

Once again, the younger one snorted.

"And you didn't realize that before? Geez, you really have to work on your social skills."

"I am rather surprised that you even know what those words mean."

"Oh, shut up."

"That sounds a lot more like you."

Mihawk had cleared the remaining logs back to their place and went to the fire pit.

"Have you seen it by the way?" The younger one muttered. "Trafalgar Law became the new Shichibukai. He was also on the Sabaody Archipelago when the others were there, right? "

He just nodded. "Some wannabe swordfighter and a clown, as I said, the title is becoming less and less valuable."

"Oh yes, Buggy, I almost forgot that idiot. I still can't understand how he became a Shichibukai."

"You know him?"

"Oh yeah, locked Luffy in a cage once. Pretty annoying guy, but back then we met Nami too, so who knows what it was good for."

Mihawk paused for a moment. "So that was at the beginning of your crew, if I understand you correctly?"

"If you mean Luffy and me with c _rew_ , then yes." Roronoa sighed deeply. "At that time things were still simple and easy. Sometimes I miss that."

"Oh yes, the carefreeness of youth, right?", Mihawk replied lightly, although he was far from cheerful.

"This has nothing to do with youth," Roronoa grumbled softly, "everything has somehow become more complicated, but maybe I only imagine it because of my bad mood."

"A little bit maybe," Mihawk quietly agreed. He knew exactly what the other was referring to, and he knew what journey Roronoa still had to face, a journey Mihawk had send the youngster on, a journey Jiroushin had of course warned him of.

Almost every human being carried a monster within, for some it was stronger, in others hardly perceptible, as individual as every human being. Roronoa was no exception and Mihawk knew exactly how much harder it was to accept this monster than to rather letting it wither in the darkest shadow of the mind.

Roronoa's monster had been very present, had quickly become apparent whenever Roronoa's life had been endangered, and now it was just as present as part of Roronoa's character. For now, Roronoa himself was the monster – the demon – whom he had always feared.

It would take time for him to regain his usual inner calm, but Mihawk had no doubt that Roronoa was strong enough to master it, as he had done with every challenge so far. However, he had to admit that a moody Roronoa was not the easiest to deal with, and Mihawk almost felt the need to apologize to Jiroushin for the past, after he had faced his very own monster.

A few days before Jiroushin had left the island, he and Roronoa had been involved in a serious argument. Mihawk did not know exactly what it had started with – it had been quite unusual, as Roronoa and Jiroushin generally got along very well – but when Mihawk had entered the room, Roronoa had just declared that he did not regret what he had done at Senichi and would do it again, no matter the consequences.

Yes, on that day, for once, Mihawk had been the one to prevent a real conflict and then had spent hours talking to both friends separately, a talent he by no means called his own. The good thing was that he had been able to have a decent talk with Jiroushin, which unfortunately did not work with Roronoa. Even the day the Vice Admiral had left, Roronoa had barely exchanged a few sentences with him.

After that it had gotten better. It could also be because, unlike Jiroushin, Mihawk could understand how difficult it was for Roronoa when suddenly his own mind was much more irritated than usual; when frantic rage and sheer anger, as well as cold hatred and exasperating frustration, overwhelmed one within one second.

Still, it was not easy, not even for him. Roronoa no longer became dangerous to himself and did not lose his mind but acting in such anger made it difficult to control his own power, even that Mihawk understood only too well. He also understood how agonizing it had to be for someone like Roronoa, who could otherwise control his own emotions so well. After all, Mihawk felt similar as soon as his little frog was involved; even if he disliked admitting it, he had long since accepted it.

Especially during training Roronoa's mood was noticeable. His impatience and dissatisfaction often challenged them both, even though he developed magnificently. In the meantime, Roronoa no longer fought against Mihawk, solely because Mihawk had almost lost his cool for one second, and he certainly did not want to risk that again. His student just got too good too quickly.

Today, Roronoa had coated his own swords for the first time, which of course he had succeeded perfectly. That was why he had been practicing with Yoru for so long that his armor was flawless. It was not strong enough yet, but that would come over time, so this was one of the few days when Roronoa had been in a good mood.

Of course, this was not entirely true. In his other form the monster seemed barely to influence Roronoa, almost as if even the Demon of the East Blue could not taint the purity of the honorable Lady Loreen. For this reason, too, Roronoa had absolved most of the training sessions in that form and his progress was remarkable there as well. Nevertheless, Mihawk felt that Roronoa was particularly sensitive about his female side these days.

"With what flimsy reason Eizen invited you this time?" Mihawk tried to continue the conversation, this time keeping his own feelings in check.

“Don't know, don't care. The only things I care about are the horrible clothes and shoes I will have to wear."

With a quiet laugh Mihawk lit the firewood.

"Yes, you can laugh. Have you ever worn heels or tights or a fucking bodice just once in your life?"

"Of course not, Roronoa. But I have not heard you complain about such things for a long time. I thought you would slowly become accustomed to the demands of the female sex."

"As if I'd ever get used to it."

Mihawk turned away from the first crackling flames and looked down at Roronoa, who had now covered his eyes with the back of his hand.

"As if I'd ever get used to it."

Mihawk remained silent. They had not talked about this subject for a long time. In the beginning - shortly after he found Roronoa as a girl on Sasaki - this was of course the main topic of many conversations. Shortly after Roronoa had managed to transform, they had talked about it many times. But mostly for practical reasons; what clothes Roronoa needed, how he had to deal with this new body in battle, how the use of Haki would affect his shape and things like that.

Rarely, extremely rarely, had they talked about how Roronoa felt about the fact that no matter what he did, he had to transform into Lady Loreen after a certain period. Although he had been training for several months now, he barely lasted longer than a day and a half and after that he could not transform himself back for several hours.

Mihawk could hardly comprehend how this certainty had to feel. But he had already suspected that Roronoa had by now accepted his fate. At least he mostly made the impression. But, of course, in his current state, he was very vulnerable to negative thoughts. Mihawk did not know what to reply. He did not want to be arrogant and explain to Roronoa how lucky he should feel to be alive after his actions, because Mihawk was well aware that he could not understand how Roronoa had to feel.

After several minutes of silence, Roronoa sat up next to him. He sighed heavily and tilted his head first to the right and then to the left until his bones cracked.

Perhaps Mihawk should look for an opportunity for Roronoa to speak again with somebody, who had experienced something similar, such as Vice Admiral Comil, commander of the G-2, who as Mihawk knew had once been someone else as well, even though Roronoa was silent about who that Marine really was. When Mihawk had visited his father at the G-2, Comil had insisted on a meeting, but of course Mihawk had ignored that and had simply left. Now he almost regretted it. Perhaps it would be good for Roronoa to seek advice from someone who had gone through the same thing.

"You know," Roronoa muttered next to him, "it really has changed since then."

"Hmm?" Mihawk turned his gaze away from the crackling flames and looked at the youngster by his side, who looked closely at the fire.

"On Sasaki I never noticed it because the fireplace was almost never used. But here I have thought about it many times; fire is a very weird element, isn't it?"

Mihawk turned to the flames again.

"Are you afraid of it?" He asked simply, recalling what had happened at the G-6.

"No. I would have expected to be, but if I'm honest, it almost fascinates me."

Silently, Mihawk pulled an armchair closer and leaned against it.

"Do you remember what happened?" He knew the answer. "Do you remember how the fire consumed you?" He did not want to know the answer and yet he had to ask.

"Yes." Roronoa's view was still on the fire. "Sometimes I dream about it, even now I can feel it, I just need to look at the flames. " He laughed quietly. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

"As someone who has not been burned yet, I do not allow myself to judge," Mihawk replied politely.

"Sometimes I'm almost annoyed by how considerate you are towards me."

Mihawk looked at the other from the side.

"Well, you are not going to answer my questions one way or the other, are you?"

Now Roronoa met his gaze.

"What questions?"

"You know what happened, don't you? How can it be that you died on Senichi and ended up on Sasaki in this other body? How can it be that you were trapped in this other body, until you watched the downfall of your own crew. How can it be that you can transform now, but you can never leave this other body behind? You know the reasons, right?"

It spoke for Roronoa that he did not dodge Mihawk's gaze. For a moment, he seemed to ponder, remembering things he had buried deeply.

"I know some things, but certainly not everything."

"But you are not going to tell me what you know, are you? You will not tell me how you survived or if you could survive again? You are not going to tell me what all of this has to do with these other people, and if there was any reason you ended up on my island, exactly that one day I visited?"

Roronoa remained silent.

"Sometimes," Mihawk admitted, "I would like to believe that it was fate. But of course I know that you do not believe such things, because it would mean that the path you go would not be based on your own choices."

Roronoa next to him leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his folded forearms as he continued to watch the flames.

"I survived because I wanted to," he said to the flames. "I decided to return to life, no matter the consequences, even aware of the consequences. That's the reason why I'm tied to Lady Loreen for the rest of my life.”

Mihawk almost held his breath. After more than eight months, Roronoa finally decided to tell him the truth, or at least part of it. He feared that a single false word would make the gates fall close again.

"Could you make that decision again?"

“I don't know. I don't know if I'll be given the choice again. If so, I will definitely come back, no matter what the price will be."

This answer raised more questions than Mihawk had expected, as he felt silent bewilderment. Roronoa had looked behind the veil of death; he knew things no one else could know.

"So, anyone who is willing to pay a price could come back?"

"No. Most don't, not like me and the others. We are the ones who wanted to come back." Roronoa sighed softly. "Those who didn't want to let go."

For a second, Mihawk had to think of his mother and sister, but he decided to linger in the present and enjoy Roronoa's rare chattiness.

"That is, you knew you were born again as Lady Loreen?"

"That is, I knew that I would be weak, after all she had said that I had to learn from my mistakes and my mistake was not to trust anyone else except my own strength, which you told me only like a thousand times... I thought it was going to be my body just a lot weaker; but a totally different body, I didn't expect that."

Roronoa sounded bitter. But Mihawk just wondered who _she_ was; perhaps she had been some kind of hallucination that Roronoa had seen in the moment of death. It was obvious that this was no longer a real conversation between them, because Roronoa was no one to open up in a conversation, and that meant that Mihawk could finally hear things that Roronoa would never otherwise say to him. So, he stayed silent.

“I thought my body would never get as strong as it used to be. But it's much worse. Instead of just being weak, I can pursue my goal in this body here, but I just don't understand why Lady Loreen should be my weakness." He remained silent for a moment, but then he kept talking, "You know, I hate it when people say that someone can do something better or worse, just because of gender. I hate how this fucking cook always pretends that women can't protect themselves as if they weren't strong."

Mihawk did not respond. So _she_ had told him that he had to learn from his mistakes. So Roronoa had come back into life to learn from his mistakes, Lady Loreen existed for precisely this reason. Did he come to Sasaki for this reason as well?

"And now my weakness is just that. I hate that I live up to some cliché. In my body I'm strong and people fear my gaze, but Loreen is so weak and everyone likes her. Kuina was a girl, but she was not weak, not like Loreen. I never defeated her, not once until she died, and if she were alive today, I'm sure she would have defeated you already."

He knew who the youngster was talking about. Kuina, the daughter of Roronoa's first teacher and former owner of the Wado-Ichi-Monji; Roronoa had mentioned her only a few times, but so respectful that Mihawk was probably obliged to thank her.

However, Mihawk felt that Roronoa's reasoning was different from his. Roronoa had said that _she_ wanted him to learn from his mistakes, but did this mean that Lady Loreen should simply represent the contrast to his physical strength?

No, the longer he thought about it, the more likely it was that _she_ had not necessarily meant Roronoa's physical strength. But what then? Why Lady Loreen? Why Sasaki? Why Mihawk?

He had no idea who _she_ was or how it was even possible that Roronoa had risen from the dead in another body, but he certainly knew one thing:

_And my mistake was not to trust anyone else except my own strength._

It was certainly not about Roronoa's strength.

"My sister was strong," Mihawk said finally, as Roronoa remained silent and he felt that a prolonged silence would hinder his thirst for knowledge, "no one defeated her, and many tried. I do not know if I am equal to her or if I would have ever defeated her, but there was no swordfighter in the world who was better than Sharak and I testify to you that she was a woman, Roronoa, a strong woman. It may be that Lady Loreen lives up to some clichés, but we both know women who contradict them."

"I know," the younger whispered now, "and that almost makes it worse.”

He sighed such a soft sigh that Mihawk was surprised he was even able to sound that gentle with his true voice.

“At first, I thought I didn't care if I were man or woman. No matter the body, I knew I could be strong enough to defeat you and somehow, I thought it would... I would have liked to have defeated you in this other body, because of Kuina."

What a painful wish.

“But it's not possible and you know that as well, right? I notice it during every workout, I exhaust much faster, my muscles become sore much easier, grow much slower. No matter how much I train as Loreen, I will never be able to prove to the world that people like the cook and my old teacher are wrong. I thought I got this body to get rid of this cliché once and for all, but the more time goes by, the more I understand that I can never do it and sometimes that makes me freaking mad."

Once again, Mihawk remained calm. What Roronoa said was true. Sharak's physique had been similar to his own, she had been very tall, probably taller than he was now, similar proportions, similar muscle tone. Like Mihawk, his sister had been an almost perfect athlete.

But Lady Loreen's slender body was quite different. Roronoa's other body was not only small, but also fragile. Despite all the physical strain Roronoa took on, his successes did not live up to his performance. Lady Loreen's body was not made to fight, and Roronoa had expected it to happen, but that he fulfilled some stereotypes seemed to trouble him the most, and yet Mihawk still had the constant feeling that Lady Loreen's form served a very different reason, not as punishment, not even as an Achilles heels or obstacle. But to explore this more deeply, he had to keep this conversation going.

“I will not say it is impossible, yet at this point I cannot foresee that you, as Lady Loreen, will ever defeat me. At least not as long as I do not get weaker due to age."

This time it was Roronoa who nodded in silence. Mihawk decided to steer the conversation into a different direction, which was more informational for him.

"But if you knew you were going to come back to life weaker, why did you take this risk in the first place?"

Very slowly Roronoa looked over to him, his eyes so open and full of unspoken emotions that they almost took Mihawk’s breath away.

"I had no choice. I had to come back. I would have come back as toy if I could have protected Luffy like that." Then Roronoa looked back into the flames. "But obviously you don't get it."

"Would you mind explaining it to me?" He rather felt that Roronoa was the one who looked at it from the wrong point of view.

"Oh, what’s there to explain?" Roronoa murmured. "You saw it, back then, how they reacted. How they all react when they faced Lady Loreen." 

Smiling, Mihawk stretched out his legs and crossed them. Slowly he understood Roronoa's thought process, his oh so childishly naive, false thought process.

"What do you mean? The courtesy? The respect?"

"They all behaved differently; they treated me differently." Suddenly Roronoa turned to him again. "You're the only one who doesn't treat me any different."

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders, pondered whether it was up to him to tell Roronoa the truth or whether he should let fate take its course.

"Well, that may be because I know who Lady Loreen actually is. An unfair advantage, I would say."

"Oh, bullshit!" Roronoa waved it off. "Jiroushin knows who I am, and he hates it when I run around as Loreen. He can't stand it because he doesn’t know how to deal with me then. Kanan knows it and yes, she is still damn affectionate, but she is more reserved, more careful, and concerning Ei... I mean, only you are always equally annoying, always worry too much, always scold me like a toddler, no matter what body I am in. Even this conversation here, I don't think anyone else would talk to me like that, but with Loreen it's easy for people. "

For a moment, Mihawk considered the words of the youngster. It reminded him of the conversation they had when Roronoa had decided not to return to his crew. He was so close to understanding and yet at so far away, at the other end of the Grand Line. Mihawk should tell him the truth, should tell him that all of this was due to Roronoa himself and not because of the others. Whether Roronoa was aware of it or not, he had it much easier to open up to others as Loreen than in his true form.

With a sigh, Mihawk looked at his fingernails, noted a fine splinter of wood caught between skin an nail, it would probably be more instructive if Roronoa understood by himself, but this would require a lot of patience from him.

"But Roronoa, you are wrongly flattering me. At first, I was far from confident in my communication with you, especially when it came to Lady Loreen, but I had months to get to know you."

"I know what you mean, but I'm talking about something else." Now Roronoa dropped back on his back. "But as I said you don't get it."

Mihawk took a moment and wondered who of them did not get it. It would be so much easier to tell Roronoa the truth, but if Lady Loreen existed to make Roronoa recognize his mistakes, it would probably not be beneficial if Mihawk would take that away from him. However, he was able to give the other a little help.

"It is about your crew," he said thoughtfully. "Your problem is not just that you are weaker or that you are weaker if you are Lady Loreen of all things, it has something to do with your crew."

Roronoa remained silent, while Mihawk continued to express his thoughts aloud.

"When you met them, they only saw Lady Loreen and that unsettled you. You are worried that they will never see you again as the strong, indestructible Roronoa Zoro. You do not want them to treat you differently."

He looked down at the younger man, who stared stubbornly at the ceiling.

"But you forget that they did not even have the chance to think about it, like me, like Jiroushin. They will need some time to understand this change. Because you have changed - whether you like it or not, Roronoa - and so they will treat you differently." 

The younger one still refused to look at him.

"I understand that you are reluctant to appear as weak in front of your crew. But..."

"That’s not it." Roronoa rose. "No matter how hurt I was, my crew was there for me and protected me. That's not my problem.”

"What is it then, Roronoa?"

But the younger one shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to bed now. I still have to answer Eizen. Are you coming along in two weeks or not?"

"Of course I will accompany you if you want me to, but Roronoa... ", he quickly continued as Roronoa prepared to go, "... does that mean that you want to deny them the truth?"

He got up to face his little frog.

“I really do not understand why you would hide who you are if it does not bother you that they might protect you and not the other way around. So what is your problem, Roronoa? Tell me if I do not understand."

But Roronoa just kept going.

"No, I'm not going to tell them."

Behind him, the door slammed shut.


	50. Chapter 46 - Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> so it's friday evening and I hope you will enjoy this little chapter.  
> I actually have not much more to say, so here we go ;-)
> 
> See you monday

Chapter 46 - Monsters

-Mihawk-

"Concentrate!" He berated.

"I am concentrating!" Roronoa growled back.

"Obviously not, otherwise I would not have said anything."

Looking up, the younger one visibly bit his tongue to keep himself from barking back.

No less dissatisfied, Mihawk slowly circled his student again and examined his posture, which Roronoa had been holding by now for several hours. Although it was a very calm and thoughtful exercise, it took its toll on Roronoa, who had to keep his body in a perfect harmony of tension and flexibility, balance and agility, persistence and mobility.

Sweat ran down Roronoa's body, he had thrown the soaked shirt to the ground early in the morning, making it easy for Mihawk to track every muscle tension and movement of his student. Attentively, he noticed every quiet tremble, every hesitation, noticed how irregularly the tissue moved around that scar, saw the small drops of sweat in his hair and how his hackles raised whenever Mihawk stepped too close behind his protégé.

It was impressive to watch the perfection with which Roronoa meanwhile had mastered the basic fighting positions and was able to last for such a long time without cramping or falling into relieving postures.

In a real fight, of course, he would never stay this motionless for such a long period of time, but it was necessary that he was able to retrieve these positions at any time, no matter how exhausted or stiffened his body would be. Especially in a fight against superior or difficult to read opponents, smooth muscle memories were a life insurance.

"All right. You can move on."

Roronoa automatically slid to the next position. Although he had not moved for a long time, his movements had not been uneven or unbalanced, quite the contrary. Slowly Roronoa attained the body control he needed as a swordmaster.

There was little for Mihawk to correct, usually some time had to pass until Roronoa would begin to show first weaknesses, which was good, because they still had some hard days ahead of them.

"It took you more than eight months to safely master the basics of Haki and to control your inner demon to the point where you no longer pose any uncontrolled danger," Mihawk said, placing one finger behind Roronoa's left ear, who didn’t dare to move. Between the jaw and skull, he felt firm muscles and tendons. "Your jawline is too tense. Bad mood or not, it will affect neck, shoulders, and back sooner or later."

For a second, the muscles became even more tense before Roronoa began to loosen his jaw by pushing it back and forth. He exhaled loudly, even though he continued to stare straight ahead.

His mood had become even more unbearable during the last few days – if that was even possible – and Mihawk was quite aware that things would not get any better before the appointment with Eizen would be over. The only reason Mihawk was even willing to work with Roronoa at the moment was that Roronoa's ambition of development and pursuit of growth even surpassed his constant dissatisfaction.

The fight between the insatiable greed to improve and his simple annoyance was easy to see, but Roronoa bowed to his master and tried to relax. Still, as even as his breathing and pulse were, the tension in his mind continued to affect tiny areas of his body.

"The forehead," Mihawk grumbled, pushing three fingers lightly against it. "The face is part of your body, each of your weaknesses you will notice here at first."

"I know," Roronoa growled, looking directly at him.

"Then stop making mistakes," Mihawk replied unimpressed. He did not like the way Roronoa was behaving currently, but he could handle it. After all, he had also learned to come to terms with the fact that Roronoa repeatedly ignored and exceeded his own health limits in training, even if Mihawk did not approve of it.

If Roronoa wanted to be stubborn, Mihawk could be more stubborn. He knew that the younger one was just fighting himself and that under other circumstances Mihawk's instructions would be easier for him to follow. But if Mihawk were to be gentler or more considerate, then Roronoa's development would slow down, perhaps even stagnate, and that was the one thing Roronoa definitely did not want, and Mihawk agreed to that. So, he persisted and did not let Roronoa's ill-considered remarks provoke him.

"Even though your Haki skills have developed well so far," he continued accordingly, as if nothing had happened, "we have less than 16 months left to teach you in the art of the sword."

He slightly poked his own temples to tell Roronoa that he got tense there as well and the younger man understood.

"Now that you are able to protect your swords from damage, we must ensure that you become a worthy master for them. Your physical strength is disproportionate compared to your other attributes. In the past few months, we have significantly improved your agility and footwork, and your strategic thinking is slowly improving as well. But your core muscles are still too stiff and your body balance insufficient. We also have to work on your general flexibility, but your stamina has reached a decent level by now."

Roronoa remained silent.

Mihawk knew that he had explained this several times, but Roronoa had the gift of ignoring logical explanations that prevented him from working with his swords or lifting his weights, so Mihawk repeated himself to keep the angry boy in check.

"I know you would rather just train day and night with your swords, but that is not productive. You will see that these exercises here will improve your skills far better than aimless dry practice. Although, of course, I admit that it is much more monotonous than a fight."

"Duh," Roronoa grumbled, then bit his lower lip before his face became expressionless again. Clearly, this comment had just slipped unintentionally.

"Roronoa," Mihawk warned coolly, "I am well aware that you are learning best in a direct fight, but this possibility no longer exists, so you will have to cope with the fact that you have to earn your skills with plain hard work, just like everyone else."

For some time, it was quiet, but then Roronoa said coldly: "You could fight me again."

“We had this discussion two weeks ago and I will not have it again.” Harshly Mihawk rejected this proposal and ordered Roronoa to move to the next position. "You know as well as I do that it will be hard for me to maintain my control in a practice match with you and you are far from equal; I would even risk killing you."

"Then just control yourself."

These words sounded almost like a command.

"Do you want to tell me something?" Mihawk asked softly, anger rising in him as Roronoa apparently believed he was in the position to scold him. Roronoa remained silent for a moment. But it was only a moment and then he probably could not hold back any longer.

"All day long you're talking about nothing else," Roronoa grumbled now, without changing his posture, " _‘control your posture, Roronoa’, 'you have to learn to control your monster, otherwise you cannot defeat me, Roronoa','if your Haki control becomes brittle, Yuro will destroy your swords, Roronoa'_ _._ I have to control everything so that I might have a tiny chance to be allowed to be equal to you. But if it's that easy, why don't you control yourself for just once? You want to teach me something about control and at the same time you can't even fend off a few of my punches without wanting to kill me right away? Who of us can't control himself?!"

Breathing heavily, Roronoa left the fighting posture – interrupting their exercise – and just looked at him. For a moment, Mihawk did the same.

"My dear," he replied with a cold grin, "that must have bothered you quite a lot for quite a long time, right? It is interesting what words slip out when you cannot control yourself well."

He saw that Roronoa regretted what he had said, but he did not back down, nor did he turn his gaze away. He stood by his words, had probably cherished these doubts for months, but only the demon dared – or was uncontrollable enough – to say them out loud.

"Of course, you are right. It is very hypocritical of me to criticize you again and again while I can hardly keep my monstrous side at bay."

Slowly Roronoa's gaze turned into surprise, then in amazement and then in...

"But you see Roronoa, the difference between you and me is a small but fine one." He approached the other. "I am the best and you are nothing more than the one who wants to defeat me."

"Well, what difference does that make?" Roronoa murmured, and neither his voice nor his eyes deceived him, but his jaw did, tremling slightly. "Whether best or not, you are someone who can't control himself when you're having fun fighting and yet demand me to do it."

"You still do not understand, I thought Jiroushin had explained it to you."

Roronoa stumbled back and looked at him with big eyes as he lost his balance under Mihawk's aura for a brief moment. Even if he was not loud, it was raging within him; it was taking its toll on him not to punish Roronoa for his daring words.

"I always control myself, so you should not put me to the test if you do not want to look behind the mask."

For the first time, Roronoa hesitated and looked at him expressionless.

Mihawk was furious, Roronoa's accusations were the same he had accused himself of for a long time. How could it be that someone like Mihawk, who was a perfectionist, was talented, intelligent, and ultimately an outstanding warrior in every form, how could it be that Mihawk could never fully control himself?

Once it had broken out, he had trained for years, had withdrawn himself from the world and tried to tame this consuming desire, but it had not been until much later that he had understood that he would never be fully in control, never again.

But these thoughts were now irrelevant. The bold boy in front him had gone too far this time and Mihawk would probably have to...

Roronoa resumed his basic position.

"What are you doing?" Mihawk muttered, disturbed in his thought process.

His disciple closed his eyes and almost immediately he relaxed. Even angrily, Mihawk was impressed that Roronoa could change his mental attitude as if at the touch of a button.

"I want to look behind that mask," he said simply, "I want to be strong enough that you don't need a mask fighting me anymore. I want that when we fight, you don't need to hold back anymore, you don't need to control yourself. But I'm not good enough yet, so I have to train."

Then Roronoa looked at him.

"And when I'm ready, don't you dare hide behind your miserable control. Because I'm not going to do that, understood?" Roronoa fluently went into the next position. "I also want you to finally teach me Haoshoku Haki, or at least how I can better defend myself against it. But I bet that won't come until I've compensated for my physical deficits, right?"

The tension that had crackled in the air disappeared as Roronoa pretended that nothing had happened, and almost instantaneously Mihawks's anger got blown away. No, it was much more than that, it was expelled by something else entirely.

At that moment, Mihawk became somewhat painfully aware; almost like struck by a lightning he realized something he had previously banished to the darkest corners of his mind. Suddenly it was so obvious and clear to him that he did not know how to ignore it. It was like a revelation, like a clear sunrise after a dark night, but it also hurt and took his breath away, and for a brief moment an impotent despair grew in Mihawk, but then he decided not to pursue this thought with all its disarming feelings but nodded slowly.

"Correct, Roronoa." Now he resumed his teaching position. "However, I have told you before that we first have to find out whether you actually carry the quality of a king. Otherwise, any training in this direction would be fruitless."

The younger shrugged.

"And how do we find out?"

“That will be my concern. You focus on your posture. Your left knee needs to be bent a little bit more."

-Zoro-

Both yawned, almost simultaneously, Zoro behind his gloved hand, Mihawk quite blatantly, his feet thrown on an empty chair, between them no less than the filled boardroom.

Zoro sat on Eizen's left, in a simple grey suit and clacking shoes, which caused his feet to hurt like hell. On Eizen's right sat his secretary Rihaku, who did nothing but write notes diligently throughout the session.

The new Fleet Admiral Sakazuki had just ended his lavish reports about the successful relocation of the Marine headquarters, the abdication of the former Fleet Admiral Sengoku, the appointment and abdication of other Vice Admirals and, of course, his own promotion to Fleet Admiral.

It was a boring meeting, in Zoro’s bored opinion, and by now he thought he was able to form an opinion. Today's assembly was not about making important decisions or overcoming problems. It served only to prove to the representatives of the various member states of the World Government and to the representatives of the World Aristocrats that the Marines were even stronger after the great war than before.

It was nothing more than a spectacle. None of the said numbers and explained deeds impressed or convinced Zoro – but actually surprising was that he really understood everything that was being said here – and he knew that even fewer of them were true.

Slowly he wondered why he had to be here, and he could see that the Shichibukai was thinking exactly the same. It was a waste of time; time they could have used for training or anything else. Mihawk noticed his gaze and an almost unremarkable grin slid over his bored face, but Zoro ignored it, because Sakazuki had finished his speech and now it was his turn. Accompanied by polite applause, Zoro rose and walked to the podium.

He remembered well how Eizen had once told him that he wanted to use Zoro – no, probably rather Lady Loreen – as a symbolic figure, but he had never expected that this would mean that he would at some point give speeches at the Marine Headquarters, certainly not in front of more than 300 people from all over the world, and even less under the sharp eyes of his teacher.

It was the first speech of importance that Zoro - Lady Loreen - would give. With the words that Eizen had presented to him, he would talk about the recent decision of the five elders, about the appointment of the new Shichibukais and about the preparations for the next Reverie, which would take place in less than two years.

Since it was his first relevant speech, Zoro had practiced a lot until Eizen and Rihaku had been satisfied with him; he had spent more than a week at the headquarters, but now the words easily left his lips, even if he hated to say them.

He spoke as he had been ordered, smiled whenever desired, left pauses when necessary, looked at the person he was supposed to reach the most, and became serious whenever he should be.

But he didn't leave the Shichibukai out of sight for a second. To his quiet surprise, his teacher made no sign of a grimace or just a grin. In the past few days, Mihawk had often been left no choice but to listen to him practice the speech over and over, memorizing it, and the Shichibukai had been anything but helpful. The elder had repeatedly shown how upset he had been about their trip, had interrupted him in the middle of the speech with annoying and unnecessary questions, once he had even thrown a little figure after Zoro, because he had demanded his attention, like a bored cat, or like Luffy.

So Zoro had assumed that this bastard wouldn't make it any easier for him today, but he should be mistaken. From cold, serious eyes, the Shichibukai watched him, his face a cold mask that did not reveal a single feeling while Zoro was speaking.

Mihawk sat at the other end of the room, far from the representatives of the World Aristocrats. It was probably far from ordinary that a Shichibukai was present at this meeting. But most would probably justify it by the fact that the honourable Lady Loreen almost never left the house without her watchdog.

Mihawk had his own conjecture. According to him, this was all about power. Eizen wanted to show the Shichibukai that he could let Zoro dance as he liked it and Mihawk could do nothing about it. The other believed that Eizen wanted to put him in his place.

But Zoro saw it differently. Perhaps this was a side effect of what Eizen wanted, but Zoro didn't think he was just doing it to mock the Shichibukai. For this, the politician had made it too clear that he did not even see Mihawk as a player.

Perhaps Eizen just wanted to show how much power he had over Zoro. Perhaps he also wanted to show Zoro how much Eizen could destroy if Zoro did not obey.

The politician did not know that Mihawk knew who Zoro was in reality, and perhaps he thought that threat would intimidate Zoro. Much more, however, Zoro was occupied by the sword of Damocles, which Eizen let hover over all his friends and allies, and the politician didn't really need anything more to put Zoro under pressure. So it was very possible that Eizen wanted to achieve something totally different by inviting Mihawk as well. But if Zoro was honest, he didn't care. No matter what the politician intended, Zoro would go his way and protect his friends, as he always did.

Slowly, Zoro came to the end of the foreign speech, well aware that most eyes were following him attentively. It was as Eizen had said, people listened to Lady Loreen, wanted to believe Loreen. They were Eizen's words, but only because Zoro spoke them, because Lady Loreen spoke them, they were heard. How he hated Lady Loreen's gift.

Then Zoro saw the last sentence, which he had never said aloud in front of the Shichibukai, knowing why.

"... and I am pleased to inform you that I have the great honor of hosting the forthcoming Reverie. I would like to express my gratitude for this opportunity."

Zoro bowed deeply, could almost feel the burning of the hawk eyes on his skin, and when he straightened up, he swallowed heavily. Under the friendly and partly enthusiastic applause, the Shichibukai stood up and left the room, his chair fell to the ground.

For a second, Zoro wanted to hurry after the other and tell him that he did not have any say in this, but Eizen took the moment to place a hand on his shoulder and grab everybody else’s attention.

The damn sword of Damocles!

-Mihawk-

It was unusual to watch Roronoa deliver Eizen's speech. Nothing described Roronoa's change of the recent months as much as this moment. Roronoa, who always described himself as simple and dull, stood here in front of all these sovereigns and spoke with a clear, vibrant voice. Words that he had not even known six months ago came over his lips all too naturally.

But Roronoa did not simply speak these words, as expected by Eizen. For the past few days, he had picked this speech apart, analyzing and questioning every little word, every point, and every comma. Roronoa knew exactly what he was saying, disagreed with much of it – as Mihawk knew exactly – but right now he was eloquence and competence in person.

Oh, how it enthused and infuriated Mihawk.

He was pleased to see that Roronoa became what Mihawk had always seen in him in this matter as well. He liked the discussions with Roronoa and it aroused him how confident and at the same time elegant Roronoa could sound, if he only wanted to. Ever since Roronoa had conquered and become his own monster, he had truly grown up.

At the same time, Mihawk could not stand sitting here, surrounded by politicians, World Aristocrats, Marines, and the nobility of the world. He knew that Roronoa did not like this society – of which Mihawk himself was a part – at all.

Roronoa did not want to be here and yet he did not seem out of place, nor as if he would really dislike it. It was as if Eizen wanted to show Mihawk how much better Lady Loreen fit into his world than in Mihawk’s.

He was, of course, well aware that the politician knew only Lady Loreen and not Roronoa, but that did nothing to put his mind to rest. He did not like how Eizen looked at him over his sunglasses, that quiet smile of victory. Regardless of the fact that Eizen did not know what Mihawk knew, he clearly wanted to snatch Roronoa from him, but unlike Nataku, he posed a much greater threat, and even if Roronoa did not want to, he seemed to become more and more involved in the spider web of politics.

However, Mihawk should not worry too much. Eizen did not know that Lady Loreen would disappear from the stage in little more than a year, probably dying from her unknown terrible illness, leaving behind the cold Shichibukai Hawk Eyes. What could the politician actually achieve in such a short time?

Well, that was probably the only thing Mihawk and this politician had in common, they would both lose Roronoa. But Mihawk was willing to accept this if he could protect his little frog by doing so. Satisfied, though not happy with the situation, he left it at that, while he watched Roronoa calmly, who looked over to him every now and then.

But now to the end Roronoa turned away and after his final words Mihawk knew why.

"... and I am pleased to inform you that I have the great honor of hosting the forthcoming Reverie. I would like to express my gratitude for this opportunity."

He almost lacked the air to breathe and then Roronoa looked at him. He had known it, had known that Eizen wanted to do this, and Roronoa had agreed and had not mentioned it even once. Again, he had left Mihawk in the dark. Over and over again, Roronoa broke the promise they had made...

Mihawk left the room without looking back even once.

He knew that anger was out of place, but he could not change it. As soon as Roronoa was concerned, his feelings did not want to follow his rational mind and how he hated it when the other denied him the truth. How he hated that he would soon lose Roronoa, but Lady Loreen should be preserved for Eizen.

"You are truly no longer the man you once were. The perfect, deadhearted strategist lets himself be overwhelmed by his emotions. You should be careful; this weakness could be easily misunderstood by others as humanity."

Mihawk stopped.

"You are the one who should be careful. In my current state of mind, I would not even be able to enjoy putting you down." Slowly, he turned around and confronted the man who had followed him out of the courtroom. "I will not repeat my warning from last time. So better get out of my sight, Nataku."

The cold blade of justice bowed almost apologetically.

"Believe me, Mihawk, I'm not here because of you. If it were up to me, everything between us that had to be said has been said."

"And yet you stand in front of me," Mihawk replied, unimpressed. Interestingly, he noticed that his anger about what had just happened faded somewhat due to the unexpected appearance of the other.

"But certainly not because of you."

"Speak, Nataku, I am not a man of patience. Tell me what you have to say or leave."

The Marine folded his arms.

"I know why you just fled."

"I did not flee, I left, notice the difference."

"Well, yes. Nevertheless, you are..."

"Nataku", he interrupted the other in a cold voice, "I will not repeat myself."

The Vice Admiral raised both hands apologetically.

"alright, alright. But at least let me explain. You know Lady Loreen and I had a conversation yesterday?" No, he did not know that. "She and I waited for a few minutes at the same door, she waited for the honorable Mr. Eizen and I..."

"Was I not clear enough during our last encounter?" Mihawk bridged the distance to the other and stared him down. "Did I not warn you to never get too close to my protégé again?"

"Calm down, Mihawk. Believe it or not, I'm not here to fight with you. We may not be on the same page, but I'm on Lady Loreen’s side and for reasons I don't understand you're important to her.”

It was ridiculous how soothing this little half-sentence felt.

"Well, Nataku, then speak."

The Vice Admiral looked over his shoulder as a door opened to his right and two soldiers stepped out, followed by some ladies and gentlemen in suits.

"Would you mind if we don't discuss this in open corridors?"

For a brief moment, Mihawk hesitated. He did not like it at all that Nataku set conditions and even less he wanted to endure his presence longer than necessary, but perhaps it was because of the distrust that had just flashed in Nataku’s eyes or the way he spoke of Roronoa. Whatever it had been, with a nod, Mihawk turned around and walked away from the Vice Admiral, commanding him to follow with a swift gesture.

In his rooms, he slammed the door shut behind Nataku and looked at him cold.

"Well, we are among ourselves."

That was obvious. No one dared to monitor a Shichibukai, and moreover, all those of any relevance were present in the boardroom, and the only other person who had access to these rooms was, of course, Roronoa, whose room could be reached through a door between the shelves.

Nataku crossed his arms with a soft nod.

"Thank you for your kindness."

"Do not let me regret it."

"When will you realize that your threats are only give you unnecessary enemies? If I wanted to expose myself to your wrath, I would know other ways and means."

Mihawk also folded his arms.

"I am aware, but enough of this. You were talking about a conversation. What do you want to tell me that should not be heard by strangers?"

Once again, the Vice Admiral nodded.

"First of all, I would like to tell you that I will not pursue my desire to free Lady Loreen from your clutches any longer."

"Not that this would be in your power," Mihawk grinned.

But indeed, this admission surprised Mihawk. The other did not sound at all as if he would approve – not that his benevolence had any meaning to Mihawk – yet he was offering a ceasefire. Mihawk wondered more and more what kind of conversation Roronoa had concealed from him.

"So, since I can no longer prevent you from playing a part in Lady Loreen's life," the other continued, between gritted teeth, "I am willing to work with you to save her from even greater calamity."

"You seem to have truly fallen for my companion, Nataku, that you are ready to jump over your shadow for no more than a spark of favor. But what do you think could be an even greater disaster for Lady Loreen than I?"

For one moment, the other remained silent.

“Rishou Eizen.”

Mihawk's grin froze.

"I know exactly why you left the boardroom, Mihawk. You also must be aware of it. Rishou Eizen is..."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Nataku. I may not think much of Eizen, but he is a highly esteemed politician, chosen mediator of the World Aristocrats. You should be extremely careful what thought you are so recklessly revealing to a government watchdog."

"Oh please, Mihawk, save this spectacle for someone who cares. You and I, we both know that this man is planning something that goes far beyond communal politics, and while you certainly do not care for the future of the World Government and the world itself, you have to see that Loreen is currently in the eye of a rising hurricane."

With his arm outstretched, Nataku pointed in the direction of where the boardroom was located.

Mihawk was almost impressed that his father's hound dog had noticed the danger posed by the old politician, and he was right: Mihawk was not interested in the future of World Government and the events of the world did not bother him as long as they were so monotonously boring, but as soon as it concerned Roronoa... well, of course he would not hesitate for a second.

"So, what do you intend to do, Nataku? What is the reason for your entrance? What do you want from me?"

Now the Vice Admiral took a step towards him.

"I want to warn you because Lady Loreen did not want to hear me out. She may believe that by working with Eizen she can make a difference, change the world to something better, but Eizen wants to abuse her for something. I don't know what yet, but I suspect it has something to do with the upcoming Reverie."

"Even if I agreed with you on this, Nataku, what kind of action do you propose? Against an act that you do not more than suspect? Are you aware that these doubts alone would be sufficient to suggest a breach of fidelity on your part?"

"And if I am right and we remain inactive, the world order as we know it could be in jeopardy, that and Lady Loreen, so I am building on your support."

Mihawk remained silent and watched the other attentively. With every fiber of his being he despised this man, but he had to admit that he would still prefer him over Eizen, he would at least grant him a respectable death as a swordsman, Eizen could rot in the gutter.

Nataku was not wrong, Mihawk himself had suspected since the day Roronoa signed the contract with the politician that this seemingly insignificant working relationship would have unimaginable consequences, but even then, he had not been able to dissuade Roronoa from his actions, of course Nataku did not even have the slightest chance of being heard by Roronoa.

"But what could I do? I am a Shichibukai, _faithful to the World Government_ ," he quoted these ironic words, since hardly any of the Shichibukai bore the title for this motive. "Moreover, even I have little say in the decisions of my acquaintance. Not even I could prevent the further cooperation between Rishou Eizen and Lady Loreen."

He could see his honest words surprising the other, almost shocked.

"So, you agree with me," the Vice Admiral quickly captured, preserving his continuance, "you are also aware that Loreen is dancing on knife's edge, guided by Eizen's threads."

He did not even deny it.

"Once again, Nataku, there is nothing I could do about it, even if I agreed with you."

"Forbid it!" This emotional demand astonished him. It was surprising how much this man wanted to protect Lady Loreen when he was yet to blame for Roronoa's death. "She is your ward or your lover or whatever. You can influence her. You supply and care for her. With her frail health, you, the mighty Shichibukai Hawk Eyes, could surely come up with more than one way to prevent her from working with Eizen!" 

"Are you advising me to do something unethical?"

"Oh please, get down from your high horse, pirate. I'm not saying you should do anything to her, but no matter what you do, anything would be better than continuing to allow Eizen to influence her. As I said, she is dependent on you, so forbid it! If you don't give her a choice, she will have to comply.”

_You think you love someone, but the truth is that you want to dominate, control, own that person._

"Love is a scary feeling, isn't it, Nataku?"

"What?" The other looked at him in distraught, but Mihawk smiled softly as he walked through the room and settled on a sofa.

"An incredibly captivating emotion and so unpredictable. How much good one swears to do out of love and how many wars have been fought for it."

"What is your point, Mihawk?"

"You attribute too much to me, Nataku. I do not have the power you demand me to use."

The elder followed him through the room but stopped.

"What do you mean by that? You are not somebody who exercises modesty."

“Indeed, I am not humble, quite the opposite. But what you want from me I cannot do, even if I wanted to. I may ask, request, and recommend, I may give my opinion and criticize others, but there is no prohibition, no coercion, and certainly no violence with which I could subject my protégé to my will."

Shaking his head, Nataku laughed in disbelief.

"What are you talking about? Loreen may be an impressive woman, but she is only a weak girl compared to you. You could chain her into a tower, and she would never see the liht of day again, so don't feed me off with your excuses."

It was almost like looking in a mirror that showed one’s past, Mihawk thought. He knew all these desperate arguments, all the good intentions, that tried to prevent great calamity through small evils, but Nataku ultimately did not know who Roronoa really was. He would never see what Mihawk saw.

"You are not wrong, Nataku, and believe me to admit this hurts me more than I can put into words. I agree with your concerns and would rather know yesterday than tomorrow that this sorry working relationship has ended, but the decision is not in my hands."

"But..."

"In order to achieve this, to enforce my and your will, I would have no choice but to break the will of my companion, as you suggest, and if, for once, I were to be quite honest with you, I would confess that I have played with this consideration more times in the last few months than I would like. But what you do not know, cannot know, is the simple fact that my willpower is not enough to do that.”

Mihawk rose again and looked at the other calmly.

"I cannot break this will; the body, of course, shackles would probably be a possibility or any other idea you have. But none of this would mean that Lady Loreen would bow to my will and stop working with Eizen. All this would only mean that I would become the monster you see in me." He walked over to the door. "Even if it may disappoint you, I cannot control my protégé's decisions, I cannot break or control that will, so there is nothing I could do."

Nataku swallowed heavily and turned his gaze away, apparently trying to keep it together.

"You disappoint me, Mihawk, you are certainly not the man you pretend to be."

"If this is a compliment, it is fruitless. Your praise is indifferent to me."

The elder walked over to him again.

"That's it? You will stand idly by while Loreen runs into her own misery and takes us all down with her?"

“I did not say that. You can be certain that I will do everything within my power to save this child from any suffering, no matter the consequences."

Nataku nodded a little more resolute.

"That means that we are still on the same page; at least in this regard I can rely on your support?"

Mihawk laughed quietly.

"We are no allies in a war, Nataku. I have made my point of view clear and if it should correspond with your beliefs in certain areas, then so be it, but there is no more to it."

"Tze, incorrigible." The Vice Admiral walked to the door.

"Nataku, answer me why you have decided to abandon your ambition to _free Lady Loreen out of my clutches."_

Already pressing the handle down the other looked at him, but his gaze was so different from before. There was a lack of hardness and strife from the previous conversation. For a second, Mihawk felt like the 10-year-old boy of that time again, and then that unassuming smile slid over Nataku's face.

_Hello Mihawk, your big sister has already told me so much about you. My name is Nataku, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can become friends._

"You're really still a kid, Mihawk, despite all your years of life experience." He shook his head. "I know when I have to give up, okay? As you quite rightly said, Lady Loreen has a strong will and you can trust her a little bit more. At least in this one point you can be certain of her favor."

"In what point?" Mihawk paused, almost bewildered, as the elder went outside.

"She chose you, you idiot," Nataku said, looking at him over his shoulder, way too soft for all the hatred between them, "and she doesn't seem to be one of those, who reconsider their decisions."


	51. Chapter 47 - Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so here comes the next chapter, hope you will enjoy it!
> 
> Unfortunately I will probably not be able to make an upload this friday, I will try my best, but as I can't promise it, I wish you all some pleasent days and we will see us latest next monday ;-)

Chapter 47 - Knowledge

-Zoro-

Finally, it was over.

After the Shichibukai had left the meeting and Eizen had ensured that Zoro could not simply follow him – which he had actually seriously considered – the session had lasted a little bit longer than an hour, and by now his feet were numb.

While Ms. Rihaku quickly packed up her documents, Eizen had engaged him in a conversation with Fleet Admiral Sakazuki and was visibly trying to keep it going, but Zoro offered him no support.

This man had killed Ace and if the circumstances were different, Zoro would now press a blade against his throat, knowing that he probably couldn't defeat him. With every word spoken by the man in the red suit, his desire grew to end this conversation. Just thinking about the pain Luffy had suffered because of this guy, he was almost unable to not attack him directly, let alone smile. He didn't think much of revenge, but right now such thoughts really charmed him.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, he apologized from the conversation – much to Eizen’s displeasure, as he realized – and tried to reach the door without further incident, Eizen's eyes steadily in his back. He knew that the politician wouldn't approve of him just leaving, but Zoro didn't care. He had already wasted far too many days here. In addition, he had delivered the speech as Eizen had demanded of him, now Zoro had earned his evening and, more importantly, his well-deserved sleep, so that he could soon resume training.

Just as he was trying to pull the heavy double door close behind him, his damn luck made its move and a tall, older man in Marine uniform held the door leaf. 

"Lady Loreen?" The soldier asked as he rushed into the hallway behind Zoro and closed the door. "You might have a moment?"

Annoyed, Zoro stopped and looked at the stranger, who bowed swiftly in front of him. He needed a quick excuse because he didn't have the slightest desire to talk to this guy. But then the soldier straightened up and Zoro knew who he was.

“My apologies for bothering you after such a long day, but I wanted to seize the moment to talk to you. My name is…”

"Dracule Gat,"Zoro mumbled surprised before remembering who he was supposed to be, "the resemblance to your son is unmistakable."

A smile slid across the soldier's face and he bowed again.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, Lady Loreen."

Then Zoro’s mind finally _clicked_. In best Lady Loreen manner, he bowed and smiled politely.

"It is my honor, your Lordship."

"Would you mind lending me a few minutes of your precious time?"

The decision was quickly made. Standing around here for longer was out of the question for Zoro, as Eizen could always leave the room behind the soldier and Zoro had no desire at all to spend another second talking to him. Mihawk, on the other hand, probably sulked in his room and would keep sulking no matter when Zoro came back, although he might have at least calmed down a little if it would take Zoro just a bit longer.

"As long as it is no gossip in some drafty hallway... I would enjoy that," Zoro replied so gallantly that Kanan would be happy and he was proud to have found a good excuse.

"Of course, of course. If you want, I could offer my room or if you would prefer your quarters...?"

Again, Dracule Senior bowed slightly, and Zoro wondered if this conversation would consist of an ongoing head banging.

"Whatever you favor."

Again nodding, the old man started walking and Zoro hurried to keep up with his long legs. He seemed almost as tall as Mihawk, but he strode less elegantly and more like an experienced veteran, only the gentle smile was out of place for both a soldier and this place.

"Then I would suggest my room."

Silently, they walked side by side and Zoro looked at the soldier out of the corner of his eyes. The resemblance of the facial features to the Shichibukai was unmistakable, even the shaggy hair under the Marine cap once seemed to have been black. He was much slenderer than Mihawk and seemed more lanky than light-footed. In no way could he keep up with the radiance of the Shichibukai; he was neither flashy nor somehow special. If he had ever been an impressive fighter, he had long since left that time behind.

No, except for the facial features, these two didn't resemble each other at all, and even that damn smile was more familiar to Zoro than he would have admitted. The Shichibukai sometimes looked at him like that, especially when that bastard thought Zoro wouldn't notice.

At some point they had reached the soldier's room, it was much simpler and smaller than Zoros – just because it was just one room and not, like Zoros, several – but Zoro liked it much better than the pomp in which he always got bedded.

The soldier offered him a place to sit, Zoro refused a drink.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Zoro asked, resisting the desire to take off his shoes, even ignoring the awkward squeaking of his bra, he would probably endure it for a few more minutes.

For a moment, the smile faded and the old man dodged Zoro's gaze. He looked sick, his skin was not as pale as Mihawks, but had a yellowish taint to it.

"I really wanted to meet you." Once again the man bowed while sitting and slowly it became really annoying. "And I wanted to thank you."

Zoro hesitated for a moment. He had thought that it would be a wise idea to go with this man rather than be caught up by Eizen, but he was just wondering where this conversation would lead and whether he had actually made a smart decision.

"Okay," he muttered after a second, knowing that a Lady Loreen shouldn't react like that, but the day had been long, and his feet hurt, and he just really didn’t care.

Mihawk Gat laughed slightly embarrassed and rubbed his neck.

“My apologies if I caught you off guard. You certainly had a busy day."

"No, no, it's okay. I would have liked to have accompanied Mihawk when he visited you at the G-2, but I did not want to impose myself onto your family affair." It wasn't quite the truth, but in hindsight, Zoro would have saved himself a lot of stress if the Shichibukai hadn't visited the old man alone to ask questions.

The other looked at him with big eyes before smiling again.

"You have persuaded him to do it, didn't you? Without you, my son would not have visited me."

Zoro shrugged his shoulders.

"I just offered my opinion, everything else was decided by Mihawk himself."

Dracule Gat shook his head.

"Oh no, you underestimate your influence. My son does not think much of the opinions of others. Just that he listens to you is already extraordinary."

"Your Lordship, why did you want to talk to me? I hope you don't try to influence your son through me somehow. "

"Oh no." Defensively, the other raised both hands. "Please do not think of me like that. I am aware that my relationship with my son is probably beyond saving. However, he is still my child and as a father I would like him to be happy. I only have a few questions for him, but he won't answer me."

Zoro watched the old man thoughtfully.

"That means you want me to answer questions behind his back, because Mihawk doesn't want to talk to you and prefers me to follow his example?"

Dracule Gat dodged his gaze.

"If you say it like that, it sounds anything but noble, almost insidious, but..."

"I don’t mind." With big eyes, the other looked at him quickly as Zoro shrugged his shoulders again. “If Mihawk doesn't want to talk to you, that's his decision, but I can decide for myself as well and I don't mind talking to you.”

The soldier swallowed and leaned slightly forward.

"I am very grateful, Lady Loreen, but I am concerned about your words. My son will not approve of your actions."

It took Zoro his all not to snort or roll his eyes.

"Then he will not approve of it," he replied coolly. "Your Lordship, Mihawk is my friend and my teacher, but he is neither my lord nor my master. I do not need his permission or his endorsement for my actions. If I hadn't wanted to have this conversation, I wouldn't have come with you."

Now Dracule Senior smiled again, put his cap aside and scratched his head.

"You amaze me, Lady Loreen. I have heard about your impressive personality, but you have been praised for your gentle nature rather than a strong fighter's will."

Now it was Zoro who couldn't prevent a grin, that grew even more when the other suddenly looked at him and let his hand sink.

"That was... I am sorry. I did not want to offend you. I just thought..."

"Don't worry," Zoro reassured him with a soft laugh. "I think you understand that gentleness is not necessarily enough to keep up with Mihawk."

The old man nodded clearly.

"You seem to know how to take him, that reassures me." He folded his hands between his knees. "Can I ask you my questions?"

Zoro leaned back and folded his arms.

"Only on one condition." Dracule Senior raised an eyebrow. "I want you to tell me what you know about Roronoa Zoro and what you told Mihawk about it?"

The soldier bowed his head and straightened his shoulders.

"I warned my son about this knowledge and it would be better for the world if Roronoa Zoro were forgotten. So why do you give me this condition?"

Without dodging the old man's yellowed eyes, Zoro smiled and wondered for a moment what would happen if this man knew the truth. But, of course, he would not take that risk. He did not trust Dracule Senior in the least. Some Marine who wanted to question Zoro about his own son because he did not dare to talk to him himself.

"I wish I didn't have to," he honestly admitted, "and I wish Mihawk hadn't asked you and you hadn't given him those cryptic answers. But you can't change the past and bemoaning does nothing good."

"So, you blame me?"

"I am not talking about placing blame, your Lordship. But I don't want Mihawk to end up in some precarious situation, especially because of me, so I want to know about anything that might endanger him, you understand?"

"Lady Loreen," the soldier whispered, "that almost sounds like you want to protect my son? Are you aware of what danger you might put yourself in?"

Zoro's grin grew.

"You should not underestimate me, your Lordship. You wouldn't be the first to regret it.”

Dracule Gat looked even more stunned, but after a moment he took a deep breath and nodded.

"Actually, it shouldn't surprise me that you know every trick in the book, Lady Loreen. Otherwise, you would hardly be able to withstand Mihawk. Still waters run deep after all."

Once again, the old man ruffled through his hair and nodded a few times.

"Well, I will agree to your condition, but only with one further arrangement." Zoro raised only an eyebrow and did not respond. "The knowledge you ask me for could mean your downfall. Therefore, whatever I tell you tonight, I ask you, my son must never know. As a pardoned pirate, he already lives on a knife’s edge and I will not do anything that could endanger the life of my last family member in any way. You have to promise it, you have to swear it!"

Zoro watched the other attentively, wondering if this concern was serious, whether a father who had not seen his son for years and had left him behind as a child could really feel that way, but in fact he didn't care about the motives of the old man.

"You have to leave my son out of this! I am truly grateful for what you have done for my son and for wanting to protect him. But you also have to understand me. If I have to choose between you and my son, I will certainly not sacrifice him."

With half a smile, Zoro tilted his head to the side.

"You can be quite reassured, your Lordship. I didn't plan to include Mihawk either way and if it's so important to you, I'll give you my word on it."

Breathing loudly, the soldier nodded.

"Well, now that we've sorted that out. What do you want to know?"

-Mihawk-

And with that he emptied his fourth wine glass.

He knew he should not drink as much on an empty stomach, especially because he did not know in what mood Roronoa would be. Presumably, the younger one was angry that Mihawk had simply left, on the other hand Mihawk was not exactly happy about the events either. Roronoa had once again withheld something from him, had deliberately not told him that he would moderate the Reverie in a year and a half at Eizen's side.

He could make his own decisions, but that he did not even let Mihawk know his decision; he had not even had the chance to express his own opinion on it. Roronoa had to be aware that Mihawk would not just accept it with a smile.

Even if he could not change it now. It was exactly as he had told Nataku. It was not in his power to free Roronoa from Eizen's clutches, as long as Roronoa did not want him to. He was convinced that Roronoa did not continue the collaboration because of the aliments – money and material values were of no importance to Roronoa – and so he suspected that Eizen had something against Roronoa up his sleeve, but he was not sure what this could be.

The only thing known about Lady Loreen's private life belonged to Mihawk's immediate surroundings, and that was, of course, protected by his title. Eizen was also not powerful enough to endanger his title and even if, Mihawk still had at least his reputation, which would save the islands in doubt from great calamity, and Jiroushin existed, too.

Otherwise, only his friends mattered to Roronoa, but of course Eizen could not know that. There was no connection between Roronoa Zoro and Lady Loreen, so...

Mihawk looked at his glass.

No, his thought here was incomplete. There were a few connections he should not ignore. One was himself, but only Jiroushin and Nataku – because Jiroushin had not been able to keep his mouth shut to the other – knew of Mihawk's interest in the youngster. Even towards Shanks he had not explained back then why he had brought him the wanted poster of the Straw Hat that he had hoped to gather information about Roronoa from the drunkard.

Then Lady Loreen had appeared in public just a few days after Roronoa Zoro's death, but those few days were not enough for the distance which Roronoa should have travelled. In addition, both figures had little resemblance except for hair and eye color, and Lady Loreen also looked years younger than Roronoa Zoro. Of course, the straight nose, the thin lips, and the sharp eyes were indications, but the cheek structure, the skin color, the shape of the face, the physique, not even for siblings one would consider them.

The last possible connection was probably the most dangerous, the day Roronoa had seen his crew again. Although they had both been disguised, they nevertheless had faced several soldiers and it was not impossible that someone had recognized Mihawk and counted two and two together to find out that the little figure next to him had been none other than Lady Loreen.

But even if, was that enough to figure out that Lady Loreen had a close connection to the straw hats?

Surely it was not enough to know that Lady Loreen and Roronoa Zoro were one and the same person. Moreover, only a few days later, the straw hats had been defeated and the world did not know that the pirates were about to reunite in a few months.

No, if he included all the circumstances, it was simply too unlikely that Eizen knew the truth and could put Roronoa under pressure.

But what if Mihawk did not know all the circumstances?

It knocked on his door.

He suspected it was not Roronoa, who would use the door between the two rooms, and Mihawk did not know if his mood was good enough to adhere to courtesy rules.

In the hallway, Ms. Rihaku waited for him, as always, she looked extremely elegant in her impeccably fitting suit and long smooth hair. Her deep bowing showed respect, but her smile and almond-shaped eyes showed little emotion and seemed almost superhuman.

"Good evening, your Lordship," she said in her serene, unshakeable voice, "do you happen to know where Lady Loreen is? She withdrew relatively quickly after the end of the conference and does not respond at the door. I am slightly worried, and Mr. Eizen wanted to talk to her."

Roronoa had apparently already come back.

"I apologize, but I have not spoken to Lady Loreen yet," he answered politely. "However, it seemed to me that my companion had been very exhausted this morning. Would you be kind enough to tell Mr. Eizen that Lady Loreen will not be available for him until tomorrow? Meanwhile I will make sure that there is nothing to worry about .”

For the first time, Ms. Rihaku looked vital as she nodded and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Oh, of course. I am aware that Lady Loreen needs to take care of her fragile health. I am quite impressed how much this young lady can handle. Please tell her she does not need to worry. Of course, the meeting can wait until tomorrow." She bowed deeply. "And if I can help otherwise, please let me know."

After a polite farewell, Ms. Rihaku rushed her way, but Mihawk watched her for a moment. Every few years they had run into each other and she had always acted like a superhuman being from another world, every movement graceful and fluent, every word soft and poetic, every look superior and solemn, but for a moment she had spoken and acted like a normal person. Maybe it was because of Roronoa, or more precise, Lady Loreen?

Shaking his head, Mihawk went back in and decided that this question was not worth his time while knocking on the door to the adjoining room. As expected, there was no answer, so he gained access.

The lounge was deserted. Nothing testified to Roronoa's presence, especially since - to preserve Lady Loreen's appearance - he kept this room in good order, quite different from his home on Kuraigana.

The bedroom was also dark, but from there he could see the subtle glimmer of light that seemed to come out of the bathroom. Sighing, Mihawk knocked again. For whatever reason, Roronoa seemed to spend a lot of time in the bathroom, especially if he wanted to avoid people.

He did not get a response, so he just decided to step in. The bath was covered by warm fog, the clouded mirror was now slowly clearing and the heavy steam in the air made the clothes damp.

Roronoa did not even look up when he got in. He sat almost directly behind the door on the floor, a towel on his bare knees, as if his strength had left him while he had been drying himself.

Blushing Mihawk turned his gaze away.

"You should not turn into this figure in such a place. What if someone saw you like this?"

Roronoa still did not look at him.

"Why do you think I'm in the bathroom?", he said dryly. “No one would just dare and risk embarrassing the honorable _Lady_ _Loreen._ Even you usually leave me alone in here."

Was that criticism? Mihawk decided to ignore this and leaned against the wall next to the door; already by now his shirt was damp and heavy. Why did Roronoa only have to retreat to the bathroom if he did not want to have conversations?

"Ms. Rihaku has been looking for you, so I wanted to make sure you were back. Not that any World Aristocrat ended up kidnapping you," he declared with a wry grin, while that was, in fact, one of his fears.

The younger man groaned loudly and slightly hit his head against the wall behind him.

"I really can’t stand this act any longer. I want to leave," he grumbled unusually wistfully.

Mihawk rolled his eyes and watched as the mirror reflected more and more of the room.

"Well, it is your fault, isn’t it? And you knew that I would say that, otherwise you would not have hidden that you planned to moderate the Reverie."

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you," the other lamented, closing his eyes. "I knew you would make a scene every time I practiced the speech. That is why I did not say anything. You always make such a drama about everything."

"Says the one who is sulking in the bathroom," he murmured back. "You could have warned me anyway, or at least given me the opportunity to express my opinion."

For a brief moment, Roronoa looked over at him, without reciprocating, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he sighed quietly.

"I knew what your opinion would be," the younger one murmured coolly, "I knew you'd hate it and would try to talk me out of it. But yes, I'm sorry."

Had Mihawk just misunderstood? Had Roronoa really apologized?

"You should put on something; you might catch a cold."

"Don’t want to," Roronoa replied simply, and did not move.

Slowly, Mihawk let himself slide to the ground, looking over his knees at Roronoa.

"If I am honest, I am almost less annoyed that you just decided something like that without talking to me about it," he said, though it was a small lie, "but much more that you took this risk. You know that by the time of the Reverie you will probably be with your crew again?"

Roronoa shrugged in response.

"So how do you plan to do that? I do not expect you have changed your mind and will initiate your crew."

The younger one remained silent for a moment.

"I guess I cross that bridge, when I come to it," he replied, shrugging his shoulders again.

"But Roronoa, you..."

"By the way, I met your father."

“What?”

It was obvious that Roronoa wanted to change the subject and in God's name, he was good at it.

"Yes, I was in his room and we talked."

“Roronoa!”

Mihawk was about to crawl on his knees towards the other as Roronoa waved it off.

“Stop making a fuss about it. Why do you always get so upset when I talk to people you can't stand?"

"Because I know how dangerous they can be. Besides, you never tell me half of it or did you tell me that you spoke to Nataku again?”

"What are you talking about?" Roronoa hissed roughly and frowned.

"Well, first you do not tell me what you have agreed to with Eizen, then you keep from me that you had a conversation with Nataku yesterday, and then today with my father. Do you want to conspire against me?"

Now Roronoa's head slightly fell to the side and he looked at Mihawk stunned.

"Are you fucking stupid?" He growled, and for whatever godless reason, threw his towel aside. "Do you really think I would team up with one of those bastards? Don't you trust me at all, or what?"

Mihawk almost backed off if it were not for the wall behind his back.

"We didn't have a conversation or whatever you imagine. We waited in the same hallway and he just started talking like the idiot he is. Do you really think I have even the slightest interest in having to talk to this bastard Homura for longer than necessary? I want to beat him up and that's it."

Huffing, Roronoa folded his arms.

"Sometimes you're so annoying, Mihawk." He looked up when the youngster approached him like this. "As soon as someone you can't stand shows up, you become so annoyingly suspicious. I always thought that you just don't trust me at all and that's why you always make such a fuss. But that’s not it, right?"

Why was it so hard for Mihawk to withstand Roronoa's gaze?

Again, Roronoa huffed and finally got up. Now Mihawk deliberately turned his gaze away, while the younger one began to dry himself.

"You're really annoying. How long will you doubt me?"

_You can trust her a little bit more. At least in this one point you can be sure of her favor._

And then Mihawk understood what Nataku had meant.

"Tze, a fledgling like you tries to scold me. You are pretty bold."

"And you're quite annoying," Roronoa repeated as he rubbed his short hair with a towel.

"That means Nataku has again exaggerated excessively with what he said," Mihawk concluded with a sigh.

Roronoa shrugged.

"No idea, don't know what he told you. I definitely didn’t talk to him. This bastard is draining - even more than you are - constantly babbling like some idiot. As if I want to spend more time with him than necessary."

Smiling, Mihawk looked up to the other, which he immediately regretted, as Roronoa walked still completely exposed through the bathroom and apparently did not think about getting dressed.

"Please, cover yourself," he muttered, turning his gaze away.

"And what did Homura want from you?" Roronoa grumbled, who apparently had not heard him, and stood wide-legged in front of Mihawk, who covered his eyes with one hand. "I thought you couldn't stand each other?"

"He wanted to find an ally in me and hoped that I would force you to give up your cooperation with Eizen."

"What? But..."

"Could you please get dressed, for God’s sake?! He believes that Eizen wants to use you to threaten the current world order. I cannot tell you how he came to this assumption and how Lady Loreen should be able to do it, but he strongly suspects that this has something to do with the Reverie."

Roronoa laughed quietly.

"Tze, was he high? As if I were capable of such a thing. Eizen wants more power, like all politicians, and he can achieve that through Lady Loreen. But that’s about it."

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders, but did not dare to look up again, although he heard Roronoa walking through the room again.

"You have to judge that," he decided to avoid a discussion. "May I at least ask what my father wanted from you?"

Mihawk got up. He just felt very old and the moist clothes did not help him. Roronoa looked up at him and shrugged his shoulders, fortunately now no longer completely naked.

"Nothing important. Asked a lot about you and wanted to know what we are to each other."

Due to the fact that Roronoa had walked around naked in front of Mihawk until a few seconds ago and they were chatting in the bathroom, Mihawk blushed even more. But Roronoa apparently did not notice, as he walked past Mihawk and reached for a shirt that also looked wet.

“Did ask weird things, like if we'd get married and what your eating habits are like and stuff like that. It was quite exhausting not to lose my nerves, as if I were ever going to marry someone, and certainly not you. "

Mihawk followed the youngster out of the bath and ignored the subliminal insult, tried to mention that Roronoa probably should transform, but when Roronoa continued to speak light-heartedly, he quickly remained silent.

"Did ask if I wanted children, what an idiot."

"Excuse me?" He swallowed heavily and his cheeks became even warmer. How could his father simply address such issues with a person he did not know? Especially considering that his former questions implied if he expected Lady Loreen to want Children with Mihawk.

Roronoa shrugged his shoulders again, pulling one of the tight jogging pants out of his drawer, which was made of the same material as his underpants. Kanan had provided them especially for Roronoa, as they could adapt to his body even in case of transformation.

"And?" Mihawk asked to keep this straining conversation going, consciously unimpressed while Roronoa put on his pants. "Do you want to have children?" This evening seemed to be a crucible for Mihawk, he thought.

"What? No," Roronoa replied directly. "I hardly would be able to cope with such a responsibility."

"Who would be with twenty?" Mihawk said, settling on one of the armchairs. How did he end up talking to Roronoa about something like this? He probably would never had mentioned it on his part, but he was indeed curious.

"Who is in general?" He grumbled, dissatisfied.

Quietly sighing, Roronoa also dropped on a sofa next to Mihawk.

"Jiroushin," he muttered thoughtfully, "I think he's going to be a good father. But otherwise no one would come to mind. The fathers of my friends have mostly done their own thing and left their children with their mothers – or anyone else – and I never had one."

Mihawk surveyed his little frog. Roronoa apparently didn't even think about transforming, while twisting a tip of his far too long, wet shirt - perhaps it belonged to Mihawk? - between his fingers.

"You are probably right. Jiroushin will certainly be a good father," he agreed. “But he is also more than willing to put his own ambitions aside for the good of his family, and not everyone is able to do that.”

"I probably couldn't," Roronoa mumbled thoughtfully, "but that’s also nothing for me to worry about. My priorities are my crew and my dream, there's just no room for anything else."

Somehow, the last sentence hurt Mihawk. He had always known it, knew of Roronoa's determination and resolution, and yet it was a bittersweet pain. Yawning, he rose and ignored that feeling.

“For now, I will lie down a little bit. You should transform, not that someone sees you."

"Yes, stop nagging, as if someone were coming to visit now."

Eye-rolling, Mihawk looked down to the younger one.

"Remember, we want to leave tomorrow relatively early. Probably right after your conversation with Eizen, so that we do not lose any more time. So, you should pack today and go to sleep early."

Roronoa nodded as Mihawk bit his lower lip and walked to the door.

A few minutes ago, Roronoa had accused him of not trusting him, even Nataku had claimed that Mihawk could be sure of him. But this one sentence reminded him which priority he was.

Roronoa did not mean it in a bad way. He meant it honestly when he said that Mihawk was his friend, but he was just a friend, not a crewmember, who Roronoa would protect with his life. No captain for whom Roronoa was willing to go through hell and give up his own dream.

Mihawk knew very well that Roronoa had subordinated his own dream to the lives and dreams of his crew, and since Mihawk himself was not much more than the means to an end, he could not expect to be able to keep up. It was not Roronoa's fault, Mihawk just read more between the lines than there was, so he was getting angry when Roronoa did not confirm it.

"Roronoa," he asked calmly at the door, "do you actually keep secrets from me?"

For a moment it was quiet behind him. Mihawk knew it was a mistake to ask this, he knew the answer, knew it from the beginning, even when he had asked Roronoa to be honest with him. It was not Roronoa's fault, Mihawk himself had set this trap.

"Yes," was the answer that confirmed his fear.

"Despite our agreement to be honest?"

"Yes." Roronoa did not even try to explain himself.

"Will you tell me why?" Mihawk knew the answer to each of these questions, but when he asked them, Roronoa was the culprit, not himself.

"No."

Mihawk turned around. Of course, it was the answer he had expected.

"Because you do not trust me?"

Roronoa had gotten up and looked over at him.

"Because we said no more lies, and not that I have to tell you every little detail of my life." Mihawk wanted to disagree, but Roronoa kept talking. "Or do you tell me every little thing you think about? Do I know each of your secrets and dark chapters from your past?"

Now Mihawk hesitated. No, of course he did not tell Roronoa everything, after all he wanted to protect Roronoa, even in case of doubt from him as well.

"There you go." But a quiet grin crept over the younger man's face. "I don't need to know everything about you and I hope it's the same the other way around. Of course, you can dig in my past if it makes you happy, or you just trust me that I'll tell you if there's something you need to know."

"Go to sleep now, Roronoa. It is hard for me to believe any wisdom as long as you wear such ridiculous clothes."

"Oh, just shut up!"

Roronoa threw a pillow after him, which only hit the door Mihawk hurriedly pulled close behind him. But when he arrived in his room, Mihawk's smile immediately faded. Less because of Roronoa's last words and yet for that very reason.

_Do you tell me every little thing you think about?_

Of course he could not.

_I always thought that you just don't trust me at all and that's why you always make such a fuss. But that’s not it, right?_

No, it really was not.

_How long will you doubt me?_

It was not as if he doubted Roronoa, quite the contrary. He knew exactly where he stood with Roronoa.

_My priorities are my crew and my dream, there's just no room for anything else._

For anything else? Or for any _one?_

By now, Mihawk understood why Roronoa's behavior always made him lose his temper this easily, why Roronoa believed that Mihawk did not trust him, and why Mihawk ultimately did not trust Roronoa.

Finally he admitted, why Roronoa always exceeded his expectations and yet could never live up to them. He easily slapped himself against his own chest and then he hurriedly left the room.

Now only one person could help him.


	52. Chapter 48 - Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> to all of you, who celebrated, I hope you had some wonderful days (and to all of you, who didn't celebrate, I hope you had some wonderful days as well^^)
> 
> I do come bearing a little gift, which I hope you will enjoy as the last chapter of this year, it does has some little surprise (maybe, for some of you probably not). All left for me to do is to thank you all for spending this crazy year with this little story about our two favorite swordsmen and taking so much time writing me those wonderful reviews; I am extremely grateful for your words!
> 
> Well, see you next year and I wish you all the best ;-)

Chapter 48 - Truth

-Mihawk-

He hurried along the plain corridor, only now noticing that he was still wearing his wet and wrinkled shirt, but he could not go back to change it now. Angry, he knocked at the last door of the aisle; when there was no reaction, he knocked louder.

"Yeah, I'm coming," it sounded from the other side. "Oh, my goodness, it's already... Mihawk?"

The door was opened by none other than Homura Nataku.

"What do you want here?"

"Is Jiroushin still here or has he already left the headquarters?" 

Apparently confused, the soldier looked at him.

"How am I supposed to know? What do you want here, Mihawk? It's already late and I have to leave." 

Without even listening to the other, Mihawk pushed him aside and entered the simple room.

"I was told that Jiroushin had an appointment with you before he would leave, but his room was deserted and he is not here, so I ask you, where is he?"

"Yes, just come in, make yourself comfortable," Nataku replied sarcastically. "No idea, Mihawk. It was not an official appointment, he just wanted to tell me personally that he and his wife are expecting, and he wanted to discuss some organizational things with me. He was here for maybe ten minutes. He's been gone for over half an hour..."

"Is he still in the headquarters?" Mihawk roughly interrupted the other. He had no interest in Nataku's private life.

Suddenly, the older man looked at him suspiciously.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing that would affect you in any way. Now call the station and ask if Jiroushin has left."

"You are not my superior. You can call them yourself."

Snorting, Mihawk walked past the other, reached for his room transponder snail and dialed a short, internal phone number. Luckily, it turned out that Jiroushin was apparently just about to board, so Mihawk let him be sent to Nataku's room.

"You are really good for nothing," he said dismissively as he hung up. "I could have done this from my chambers."

"Why didn't you do it?" Nataku replied, no less annoyed. "Why are you in my room at all? Didn't you throw me out this afternoon saying we're no allies and now you want my help?"

"Oh, do not be ridiculous," Mihawk waved it off, "I am looking for Jiroushin. I have no interest in you."

"And why are you in my room and don't just let me... has anything happened to Lady Loreen? What did you do?"

Once again, Mihawk waved off the other's questions.

"This is not about you and your worries, Nataku. So, could you kindly keep your mouth shut? Your voice alone causes headaches."

The older man walked to the door and ripped it wide open, pale in his anger.

"Leave, Mihawk, I still have appointments and no patience for your rude behavior."

"Nataku?" It came from the aisle, accompanied by hurried steps. "What's going on? I was called as my ship was about to leave and was sent here? Did something happen? What do you want?"

"I don't want anything," Nataku said roughly, stepping out into the hallway, "and I didn't let you be sent over either. This was none other than your favorite Shichibukai."

“Mihwak?”

Right on cue Mihawk stepped out of Nataku’s room.

"I need to talk to you, Jiroushin. I thought you were still with Nataku."

"No, I was already on my way home, to my pregnant wife," his best friend disagreed slightly impatient.

"Well, fortunately I was able to stop you. We need to talk."

"Do what you want," Nataku commented, pulling the door close behind him, "I've got to go now."

"One moment, Nataku," Mihawk wanted to stop the other – how dare he was denying his room to Mihawk – when suddenly the door of the neighbor's room opened.

"Nataku, are you ready? I thought I had heard you... son?"

"Fantastic," Mihawk grumbled, rolling his eyes as no one else joined them but his father.

"What is this about?" Gat asked attentively.

"Nothing, that would affect you," Mihawk declined his interest directly, and turned for Nataku again. "Now stop making such a fuss and let Jiroushin and me into your room."

"I don’t think so," contradicted the Marine, "take your chambers, leave me alone."

"This is not an option. We need to be able to talk undisturbed."

"And who would want to disturb you voluntarily?"

"Mihawk?" Jiroushin interrupted their quarrel. "Does all this here have something to do with... Lady Loreen? Is that the reason you don’t want to talk in your rooms?"

Mihawk nodded disapprovingly.

"Well," Nataku said. "What happened?""

"Nothing has happened," Mihawk replied crudely, "I just need to be able to talk to Jiroushin without _anyone_ being able to disturb or listen uninvited."

"You can take my room," Gat offered, "Nataku and I have to go one way or the other now."

Unimpressed, Mihawk met his father.

"Do not look at me like that, my son. You know my room is safe. After all, I was the one who taught you how to track down unwanted listeners and protect yourself from such." 

"Thank you, your Lordship." Jiroushin bowed swiftly. "That's very kind of you."

"No, it is fine," the old man smiled politely and stepped aside to allow them to enter, “and I told you numerous times, I am no Lord anymore, the title belongs to my son.”

"This does not change anything at all," Mihawk clarified when he passed his father, "do not think that this means anything to me, and if you have the audacity to approach my protégé again, you will regret it."

His father tilted his head slightly.

"I knew it would enrage you, my son. But to put it in Lady Loreen's words. You are neither her lord nor her master, and she is not dependent on your endorsement or even your permission."

Did Roronoa actually say that?! Of course, it suited the youngster to express his thoughts so directly and the choice of words probably also suited Lady Loreen.

"That might be true," Mihawk admitted, "but that does not change the fact that I am going to execute you or your faithful hound dog behind you if you come too close to my companion once more."

Then he turned around and rushed into his father’s room.

"As polite as always," Jiroushin remarked behind him, closing the door with a quiet click. "Could you at least stop threatening your own flesh and blood with death?"

"Oh, Jiroushin, this man is absolutely irrelevant. We have more important things to discuss."

"And what?" The blond behind him asked. "What is so important that you stop the departure of an entire fleet just to talk to me? And why this fuss? Why not your room?"

Mihawk stared at the bare wall in front of him. This room was a disgrace for a Dracule – even if it was only his father – no more than the room of some soldier, without any appreciation.

“Hawky?”

He knew exactly why he had called Jiroushin, but if he said it now, there would be no going back. If Mihawk were to admit it now, it would become truth.

"Now speak or I'll go." Jiroushin was unusually impatient.

Sighing, Mihawk rubbed over his face with one hand and then looked up to the ceiling as if he were looking for answers, but only a hideously simple lamp greeted him.

"I cannot say it," he finally whispered, aware of his shame, "if I say it, everything will change, and we both know how much I detest changes."

The soldier behind his back groaned before the clacking of boots revealed to Mihawk that the other had started pacing through the room.

"Hawky, I don't know what's going on, but because of you the port of the headquarters is standing still; just because you wanted to talk to me in person. I don't care what you detest or not, I didn't ask to be involved in your and Zoro's arguments... Wait a sec... It’s about him you said, and that he shouldn’t be listening or bursting into that conversation by accident. Mihawk, does this mean..."

"Don't say it!" Warningly, he raised his index finger to the other. "Do not dare to say it, Jiroushin."

His best friend since childhood stopped pacing and shook his head slightly, a gentle smile on his lips.

“But Hawky, just because you don't say it, don't want to see it, want to deny it, none of this makes it any less true. You don't want things to change, but the truth is, they already have, and you can't stop that. But if you say it, we can embrace change."

Oh, for heaven’s sake! He had forgotten how smart and sensitive Jiroushin could be. Why did he have a friend who was so good at things for which Mihawk obviously had no talent.

"I know!" Loudly groaning, Mihawk let himself fall on the terribly uncomfortable bed and rubbed his face again, allowing himself to disappear for a second in the darkness of his closed eyes, knowing that he could not escape.

"Well," he muttered, resting both elbows on his knees, letting his folded hands slide down so that they only covered nose and mouth. For a moment, he looked up to Jiroushin before staring at the ugly table in front of him. "Well, it is probably pointless to run away from the truth like a coward."

The blond did not respond.

Once again, Mihawk took a deep breath.

"You were right," he then quietly admitted, noting how it hurt him, "you were right from the beginning."

Almost trembling he took another breath, before finally facing the truth.

"I... I do have feelings for... for... him." He ruffled through his hair as the truth echoed through the room and his gaze scurried from one corner to the other, well aware that he could not face Jiroushin. "How could I, of all people, the best swordsman in the world, coldhearted strategist, and an honorable teacher, let something that outrageous happen? Feelings for my disciple? But I cannot change it. It is the truth and I tried to ignore it.”

He buried his face in his hands again as he became aware of his shame.

"I fell in love with Roronoa Zoro."

For an eternity it was terribly quiet, even Mihawk's thoughts – never quiet otherwise – seemed to have abandoned him. But then Jiroushin patted his shoulder.

"I know," he said, dropping on the bed next to Mihawk. "I think I've known this for so much longer than you."

Mihawk exhaled loudly.

"Which of course is nothing to be proud of, Jiroushin, as I have only been aware of it for a few days. Like a fool, I have denied and misunderstood my very own feelings."

“Well, don't be too harsh on you. After all, until now we didn't even know you were actually capable of such feelings at all, Hawky."

"Do not make fun of me, Jirou, not right now."

The other put an arm around Mihawk's shoulders.

"I’m not making fun of you, Hawky. I’m serious. Before your little miracle boy appeared, I could have sworn you weren’t even able to fall for somebody."

"Should this build me up in any way? You are supposed to help me, Jiroushin, and honestly you are not doing a good job."

Jiroushin remained silent.

"Since when did you know?" Mihawk asked. 

"Excuse me?"

"I only noticed it recently, I only noticed it when it was already far too late, but you have been making such comments for months. So, since when did you know? When did my feelings affect my behavior towards Roronoa?" Deeply inhaling, he leaned back. "I need to know, so I can evaluate since when I have behaved unprofessionally, when my feelings have stood in the way of Roronoa's development."

The blond pulled his arm back and supported it on his leg.

"So, if you ask me that... Hmm... Well, honestly, you've always behaved odd when it came to Zoro." Mihawk cast a doubtful glance to the other. "No, honestly. I remember how confused I was when you called me because of him. You gushed about him like a popstar."

"I did not," he reluctantly disagreed.

"Oh Hawky, you knew his eye color! Who pays attention to the eye color of an opponent during a fight, especially you, who couldn't even remember the faces of your own subordinates within two months?"

"I do not care for the unimportant, Jiroushin."

"And that's what I mean. For months you haven't called once and then you call, asking me to find out everything about a boy from the East Blue, even more to tell me everything, to swoon over him. You never swoon, over nothing, and as good as Zoro may be by now, back then he was still a bloody novice, more than just literally."

It was difficult for Mihawk to disagree with that, knowing that the other was right.

"All right," he muttered, "but that was not much more than interest, maybe enthusiasm about a promising talent, but I ask you since when you knew that I... that I... that I love him?" He shook his head slightly; those who believed that it would get easier after the first time were mistaken.

"Difficult question," Jiroushin commented next to him, "after all, you made up this whole farce about Lady Loreen." 

Maybe that had been a mistake. Perhaps his fake affection had turned into reality.

"If I'm honest, I've already thought your behavior after Zoro's _death..."_ Jiroushin drew quotation marks in the air with both hands. "... was worrying. You were completely out of your mind and I was really scared that you would plunge down the next cliff."

“Jirou…”

"But then Lady Loreen showed up and you seemed so... so happy, and we both know that’s something unusual. I remember exactly the first morning when we talked about the straw hats – I really find it hard to accept that this girl in the far too big shirt was Zoro – he had headaches and you were annoyed the whole conversation, but at the same time you were so... alive." Jiroushin shook his head. "I've known you for almost 35 years now, Hawky, and if we're honest, you've been spending most of it trying to isolate yourself from the outside world, at least emotionally."

Mihawk did not respond.

"I mean, yes, we had our adventures and our fun; do you remember the Misriin-triplets?"

The name awakened something in Mihawk, but he did not recall more.

"I tried to court Isis for days," Jiroushin recalled with a soft smile, clearly wandering away, "and I ended up making a fool out of myself with her almost ignoring me."

In front of Mihawks's inner eye, the blurry figures of three people appeared. He remembered the island on the Grandline, where they had docked somewhat twenty years ago, and the triplet that had enchanted his entire crew.

"And our Eos mourned this Osiris for weeks, described him in so many ways you could’ve written books about it."

"Really? I did not know anything about that," he remarked thoughtfully, wondering why Jiroushin was recalling this little anecdote.

"Because you didn't even ask why the poor guy was howling day and night."

"Oh, Eos always cried about every little thing. So annoying."

"But of all of us, only you were successful, right? I mean, Horus and..."

"Jiroushin, what is your point? The past is the past and that was just..."

Mihawk did not understand why his friend mentioned those three energetic siblings.

"Well, Hawky, the whole crew had fallen for at least one of those three, all but you."

"So what? Please, what does any of this...?"

Groaning, Jiroushin rose and began to wander through the room again.

"Mihawk, these were the three most charismatic, attractive, and desirable people I have ever met..." 

"Do not let Lirin hear that."

"... and you didn’t even care. You had your fun, a little adventure, but after that you didn't waste another thought on those three, did you?"

Mihawk shrugged his shoulders.

"Of course not, why would I?" He admitted that all three siblings had been attractive and had radiated a seductive charm, but only because Mihawk had enjoyed their erotic bodies did not necessarily mean that he would feel something for them. For Mihawk, sensual pleasure had little in common with the deep affection he felt for Roronoa. 

Jiroushin shook his head with a laugh.

"That's what I mean. I always thought that you can't feel like that at all and then Zoro comes along; ill-tempered, ill-glaring Zoro, and you fall head over heels. If I weren’t so relieved that you're a normal person, I'd find it almost entertaining."

Mihawk found the situation far from funny and he did not like Jiroushin making fun of his emotional situation.

"Could we please come back to my question? This is not amusing, and you are no help at all."

"The ball."

Surprised, he looked up.

"The ball?"

Jiroushin had stopped and nodded.

"During the Marine ball, I knew something was wrong, that you were different from before. I've seen how you looked at her... at him. While dancing, from the table, when you were talking to each other. It was obvious that you were only there because of the woman in white."

Mihawk thought back to the Marine ball. Recalling the pomp and splendor; he recalled how he had asked the wrong girl to dance and how both Eizen and Nataku had tried to snatch Roronoa away from him. He recalled Roronoa's wrath because Mihawk had made one mistake after another that night and Roronoa had been on his own, and he remembered their first and last dance that night.

He remembered how happy he had been that among all the people Roronoa could have chosen, he had stayed with him, knowing full well, that there was no reason for Roronoa to actually leave with somebody else. He recalled asking Roronoa to take off the mask, and he remembered how Roronoa had looked at him.

"I remember what an impression he made, the first woman to ask a man for the last dance of the evening. I'm still surprised that you weren't punished for it," Jiroushin continued, "and you accepted and then you kissed him on the forehead. I would have understood the kiss of the hand, but I knew at that moment that you had fallen in love, that you were happy."

Mihawk remembered that very feeling, exactly that moment. But he also remembered the night after, the doubts and the inner turmoil. He remembered that certainty. That night he had known what he wanted, what he really wanted, and could never have, was not allowed to ever desire.

"That was almost nine months ago," he whispered, "that would mean that almost all my decisions were already influenced by my feelings."

Now Jiroushin shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't worry, Hawky. _All_ your decisions concerning Zoro have always been influenced by your feelings."

"That does not help me, Jiroushin." Mihawk turned his gaze away and rubbed his neck. How could it be that he, analyst and strategist, had not noticed for months – no, had even denied – that he was no longer objective, had acted far from any objectivity.

"No, no, I don't think it does." Suddenly Jiroushin squatted down on the floor in front of him and looked up at him. "But it's nothing bad, Hawky. I even find it understandable. I don't know why, but when you're with Zoro, you get emotional, angry and gentle, childish and good-natured. You argue constantly and sometimes quite aggressively, but he never bears a long grudge against you and you get along quickly again. You're not an easy person, Hawky, and yet Zoro endures all your whims, yet he endures you and makes you laugh. In addition, he is probably one of the few people who can understand your passion to love the fight as you do, perhaps also to love the sword as you do. I understand that you are drawn to him, even if he is moody and only half your age."

Groaning, Mihawk leaned back.

"You are not making it better, Jiroushin!"

Laughing, the blond threw himself back on the bed next to him, but Mihawk was not laughing.

"Even if you are right," Mihawk muttered thoughtfully, "even if it were _understandable,_ it is in vain. We both know that Roronoa will not stay with me, no matter what I do. His crew stands above everything, even above his own dream and besides, my feelings are one-sided. Roronoa does not feel the same for me as I do for him."

It hurt, almost more than his previous admission. Mihawk knew exactly why his prior efforts to keep a respectful distance from Roronoa had been in vain. Roronoa had long warned him that they should not become more than expectant rivals, but Mihawk had been so convinced that he was superior to his own emotions that he had not taken this warning seriously.

At last, he understood why there was such tension in their relationship; a disproportion that often led to discussions. Mihawk demanded that Roronoa treated him as a partner; someone whose opinion had to be included in the decisions of one's own life. He demanded of Roronoa that he entrusted things to him, revealing worries and secrets; Mihawk had demanded of Roronoa an emotional intimacy that existed only between few people and which Roronoa could never have fulfilled, never intended to fulfill. That was the reason why Roronoa often hurt him, because Mihawk left him no choice.

"Pathetic," he murmured quietly to himself.

"Don't say that," Jiroushin next to him mumbled. "You can't influence who you're in love with. So..."

The other did not continue his thought.

"So what?" Mihawk asked, as his best friend remained silent.

Jiroushin sighed.

"So I think it's unfair to expect Zoro to feel like you do."

“I am not! Of course, I do not expect..."

"I'm not done yet, Hawky," Jiroushin interrupted him with a raised hand. "You know, because I already knew what you didn't want to see, I tried to talk to Zoro about this subject a few times."

"Jiroushin, what have you...?"

"Calm down, damn it. I didn't reveal anything, but I thought it couldn't hurt to find out if he ... has certain inclinations or not."

"What does this even mean?"

The blond ripped slightly desperate both arms into the air.

"No idea! He's a pirate, so I've thought that gender and their roles don’t matter to someone like him, but I wanted to make sure and check if he might even be spoken for."

"He is not, he..."

"I know that. Let me talk for once." Jiroushin sounded reckless. “The thing about all of this is, I don't think Zoro just doesn't return your feelings, I almost think he can't.”

Confused, Mihawk stared at the other.

"What are you talking about, Jirou? If even I can desire another person, lust after him, why shouldn't Roronoa?" 

A nasty grin crept over Jiroushin's moves.

"You're lusting after him?"

"Stay on the subject!" He slightly slapped the other man against the back of his head.

"Have you ever seen him fight," he murmured quietly afterwards, "when I see how he moves, how he concentrates and almost never lets himself be influenced by his feelings... Besides, half the time he walks around completely naked, how am I supposed to ignore such a perfect body, if..."

"Enough, enough," Jiroushin waved it off. "So, to make it clear. Apparently Zoro has no interest in... physical activities with other people or..."

"What are you talking about, Jiroushin?"

"Sex, Hawky, I'm talking about sex."

"You simply talked with him about that?" Mihawk blushed.

Now the blond took a deep breath.

"Why not, Hawky? Not everyone is as uptight as you are."

"Well educated."

"Uptight! But to get to the point: I think Zoro is only interested in his crew and his dream, and from what he told me doesn't seem like he has any sexual desire or lust. It seemed to me as if he had no idea what I was meant when I was talking about attraction and flirting. So either he's really very naive and really underdeveloped in these areas for his age or..." Jiroushin shrugged. "Or he just doesn't feel that way."

Mihawk knew nothing to say about that. It was true that he spoke much more reservedly on this subject than most – for heaven's sake, with no one but Jiroushin, he would be willing to have such a conversation, and even now it was almost too much for him – but even he had tried one or two things back when he had been sowing his wild oats and usually had not found them unpleasant.

He had also seldom succumbed to the charm of physical attributes, but that did not mean that Mihawk did not perceive them or enjoyed them from time to time. That was why he found it hard to believe that someone like Roronoa - who was in the prime of his years and should have a very healthy desire for such activities – should have no interest in such a thing.

On the other hand, Roronoa had been with Mihawk for months now, and the possibilities of getting some kind of that activity had been somewhat limited – and he doubted that Roronoa and Perona had such a relationship – so perhaps this possibility was not that absurd.

"So you mean," he repeated thoughtfully, "that Roronoa is not even capable of developing romantic feelings for me?"

"I didn't say that," the soldier replied, "just that he probably doesn't _lust_ after you, just as he generally doesn’t seem to long for sex. I think he just feels not sexually attracted to anyone.”

Mihawk rubbed his face and evaluated Jiroushin's statement. Unlike Mihawk, Jiroushin seemed to see a firm connection between sexual desire and romantic feelings, which for Mihawk was not as self-depleting. For him, these two desires had completely different meanings, so he wondered what was actually true about Roronoa from Jiroushin's analysis. 

"Be that as it may," Mihawk decided after a while, "whether Roronoa does not reciprocate my feelings or is not at all able to do so, it does not change the current situation. I take advantage of my relationship of trust with my student and have developed inappropriate feelings."

"Well, your situation is not that simple."

"But Jiroushin, it is just that simple and the solution is just as simple as well."

"So you don't want to tell him anything?"

"Of course not. Roronoa is already overwhelmed with our relationship as it is at the moment. He feels guilty about his crew, because he did not go back to them, and I am part of that decision. I am not going to make it harder for him over the next few months by imposing on him the knowledge of my one-sided feelings."

The soldier sighed heavily.

"So you're isolating yourself again?"

With a sad smile, Mihawk shook his head.

"On the contrary, I allow myself to remain as selfish as I am, staying close to him without him having to reflect on his words and deeds towards me. Of course I will have to control my own behavior better, but as long as he is ignorant, things can stay as they are and that is more than I can ask for."

Jiroushin remained silent.

"I am disappointed, Jiroushin. Actually, I would have thought that you would call me insane to fall in love with a child, especially if it is Roronoa."

"He's not a child," the other replied thoughtfully. "Of course, he's young, twenty or something, isn't he? But he often seems much more mature to me, in some things he looks almost older than you – and you basically look like an old man, no matter what it is – and as I said, you can't choose who you're in love with and he's similar to you, so... what the hell?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"It saddens me that you are finally learning how love feels and that it is doomed to fail from the very beginning. Maybe you should talk to Zoro. It's cruel, Hawky, for both of you. That's not okay, really not okay."

"No, I doubt it is," Mihawk agreed, and stood up, "but it is what it is."

Jiroushin did the same and sighed again.

"Do I have your word that you will not tell Roronoa anything?"

"Oh, that you even feel the need to ask. Besides, I think he could have listened to this conversation here and still wouldn't understand what we're talking about.”

With a smile, Mihawk went to the door.

“I do not know whether that should comfort me or not.”

"Then see it differently. If he hasn't realized yet that you're interested in him - even though it's so obvious - he probably wouldn't even notice even if you were lying naked next to him in bed. So you don't have to worry about him suddenly finding out."

"That would be harassment," Mihawk muttered, but pondered how many times he had seen the other naked - in both figures - and whether Roronoa had ever seen him unclothed. But then he dismissed such ungallant thoughts. "However, tomorrow we will leave and then we will continue training, and I am looking forward to that now. He is slowly... Jirou, what is it?"

Pale as death the other stared at him.

"Leaving," he muttered, and then he ran to the door. "The fleet, damn it!"


	53. Chapter 49 - Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody and a happy new year!
> 
> I hope it started for all of you in the way you hoped and that it will become your best so far!   
> Thank you for your sweet words. I was really nervous posting the last chapter and how you guys would receive it, so I'm soooo glad over the positive feedback. Thank you! I hope I will do you guys justice!
> 
> Have fun with the next chapter and see you monday ;-)

Chapter 49 - Beginning

-Zoro-

"Too much knee," Zoro corrected himself in annoyance and repeated the step to the side.

Since the early morning he had been training, repeatedly the same steps, repeatedly the same exercises, the same movements, to perfection, up to a thousand repetitions of perfection. It was a tedious job, boring and exhausting, but of course Zoro didn't stop.

Two days ago, he and Mihawk had returned from the headquarters and since then Zoro had been training on his own. On the way back, the Shichibukai had a _flash of_ _inspiration_ and since then had spent his time reading countless books in the library, leaving Zoro to himself. He had noted that it would be necessary for Zoro's future training and that Zoro would be able to cope for a few days without his supervision.

That was probably true, Zoro couldn't fight without a suitable opponent – and of course the Shichibukai refused to be available as a training partner – and therefore he did not have much left but the dull dry exercises that he had already practiced the last few weeks. Repetition was the key to success here, only with many repetitions his physical condition would steadily improve. Zoro knew he was getting better, that this training made sense, but there was one problem.

"It's boring!" Groaning, he fell to the ground and rubbed his sweaty face.

He was dissatisfied; he knew that training was not always fun and that he had to bite through, but he didn't like it at all. He had no problem with discipline, perseverance, and thousands of strenuous hours that did not bear any fruit. He had no problem falling into the dirt a thousand times and getting up again. He had no problem with being scolded and corrected a thousand times. But it didn't change a small thing: Zoro was craving for a fight.

Sighing, he pulled on his hair.

"And now I sound like this fucking bastard!"

He never thought he would miss fighting so much. Yes, he liked to fight - who didn't? – but Zoro would not have thought that he would behave like the damn cook on nicotine withdrawal. However, he had to admit that it was also a cold withdrawal for him, moreover, his current constant bad mood was certainly not beneficial.

Before his life on Kuraigana Zoro had fought almost on daily basis and if the days on the Sunny or Merry had become too long the stupid dart brow had only too gladly joined a little banter. Sometimes it had been exhausting – oh, who was he kidding, the cook was _always_ exhausting – but tacitly they had agreed to let off steam on each other and that was sometimes really necessary during weeks on the sea with the same faces day in and day out.

Here on the island Zoro had enjoyed his first days fighting the Humandrills and after the Shichibukai had arrived, he had made sure to keep Zoro busy and just when he had started to get bored, Jiroushin had turned up and had been only too happy to fight with him.

But now the Vice Admiral was back home and Mihawk refused to fight Zoro, plus he was suffering under his unusual mood swings, so he slowly lost his patience like an addict.

Zoro wanted to fight.

Slowly, he understood how frustrating it had to be for Mihawk not to be able to fight. Zoro almost didn’t care who his opponent was, whether weak or strong, whether just a friendly quarrel or a battle between life and death, he would have his fun one way or another, in doubt he would make sure he was having fun.

For the Shichibukai, however, it was different. Apparently Mihawk could only fight properly if his opponent was strong enough, otherwise it wasn't even a real fight for him.

So how much time had passed since his last real fight? Jiroushin had once mentioned that his last equal sparring partner had been the red Shanks before he had lost his arm for Luffy. Zoro barely endured few weeks, how would he feel after more than 15 years?

"But that doesn't get me any further now," he murmured, getting back on his feet and continuing his exercises. It was frustrating, he knew how much quicker he would improve if he had a counterpart to fight with, but according to Mihawk, Jiroushin wouldn't be enough anymore - whatever that meant - and so Zoro had no one left to compete with. No one, except the damn Shichibukai who did not want to fight him.

But how else should he improve his Haki control? 

His movements were good, not perfect yet, but good. But he realized that the strength and flexibility of his torso muscles were not yet what Mihawk wanted them to be. He also knew that his balance was still expandable, but the longer Zoro repeated the exercises, the more certain he became that this was not the right way to go.

Yes, he improved, but it wasn't enough to be able to control his body only in static movements. A battle was not a sequence of the same movements again and again, but unexpected moments, sudden impulses, and unpredictable influences.

None of this would be learned by Zoro in his dry exercises. In order to prepare for fights, Zoro had to practice controlling his body in combat, just like his Kenbunshoku Haki, which Zoro could practice much easier in peace than if he had to concentrate on something else.

Mihawk would not fight against him, but Zoro alone could only partially recreate a fighting situation. He needed an opponent, a counterpart, a... partner.

For a second, he just stood there, smiling at his absolutely ridiculous and pathetic idea, and then he ran off.

He almost stumbled into the library.

The Shichibukai had just gotten up, a finger still on a page, and looked at him in surprise. There were countless books around him, most of them opened and then abandoned.

"Roronoa," he explained mildly surprised, "are you already done with your training?"

"No," Zoro replied loudly, "I have an idea!"

Now the elder tilted his head slightly and looked at him attentively.

"An idea for what?" He asked, and then closed the book he had just read.

"How you can train with me without having to fight, so I can get better. We both know that these dry exercises aren’t good enough anymore."

"Is that so?" Mihawk remarked, slowly stepping towards him.

During the last days he had behaved odd, Zoro thought, but it didn't really bother him, the other had such phases, Zoro knew that. Nevertheless, the Shichibukai had been in a relatively good mood the last few days as well, which had surprisingly made it easier for Zoro to control his own mood. Still Zoro had his issues not to drown in his own negative thoughts.

Not only had Zoro noticed how the other had become more careful in his choice of words; he often asked questions – like this one – rather than simply saying what he was thinking. Since their return, he had been very polite and rarely demanding. In the beginning, Zoro had thought that the elder was trying to be considerate about Zoro still struggling to control his demon, but something was off.

Shrugging his shoulders, he ignored this thought.

"You once told me," he said, breathing deeply before continuing, "that a good swordfight is like a dance."

The eyes of the Shichibukai widened a trace.

"Well, so let's dance."

"Excuse me?" A nasty grin crept over Mihawk's face. "You hate to dance."

"I know," Zoro grumbled, raising his hands unnerved.

"Besides, we did that at the beginning of your training, and you did not seem..."

"That was something else. I didn't understand, okay? " Zoro approached the other and stopped right in front of him. "Back then it was only about Kenbushoku Haki, but you must have noticed that I can't really improve the stuff with balance and flexibility the way I’m doing it right now."

"The stuff?" Mihawk repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh damn it, you know what I mean and you know I'm right. These stupid standard exercises don't really help me get better. I have to train my weaknesses, but in these exercises, I don’t have any. If I'm not supposed to make mistakes while fighting, I have to practice the situation of a fight. I won’t be able to control my body perfectly at any time in combat if I'm not used to something unexpected happening.”

"And you think you could learn this best by us dancing?"

"No," Zoro growled at the other, and was about to pull him down by his collar. "I think I would learn best by us fighting or if I was fighting with anyone, but..."

Mihawk waved it off. "I know you like to fight, Roronoa, but training with a weaker opponent will not help you, even if it may feel like it would, so Jiroushin..."

"I know!" Now Zoro did pull the other one down to eye-level. "Just listen to me, you bastard!"

He huffed in irritation and looked directly at the other, who only raised his eyebrows and otherwise remained silent, not even resisting Zoro's hands.

"I accept that there will be no fighting, okay, but I need the unpredictability of an opponent to train and if that's not possible in combat with you, then..." 

"... maybe in a dance," the Shichibukai finished his sentence thoughtfully, but now he broke free of Zoro’s grip.

"Exactly." Deeply inhaled, Zoro took a step back, watching the other evaluate his proposal.

Mihawk crossed his arms and looked at Zoro, his yellow eyes seemed to notice everything about him, seemed to be able to capture how Zoro had spent the last hours of training. Zoro liked this look, it filled him with a mixture of pride and curiosity.

"Well," Mihawk said with a soft nod, "it probably is worth a try."

A relieved smile slid across Zoro's face until he realized what he had just persuaded the Shichibukai to do.

"Fine, Roronoa, let us see if your idea really makes more sense than your current workout." 

Mihawk walked past him and suddenly it was Zoro running after the other.

"But weren't you searching for something?" He muttered as they rushed through the castle and walked up some stairs.

"Just when you came in, I found the answer I was looking for," explained the elder, "fortunately, I would say, after all I cannot recall ever spending so much time at once with research. So boring."

"Did you stay up all night?" The previous evening Zoro had eaten only with Perona because the other had been sitting in the library.

"Pretty much," the other yawned, "I wanted to get it done quickly so that I would miss as little of your training as possible."

"Where are we actually going?" Zoro ignored the strange remark, which was perhaps meant to be praise. "I thought you're going to train with me, but I feel like we got lost somewhere." 

" _I_ do not get lost, Roronoa," replied the other coolly, but with a harsh undertone," and we will not go outside for training, we go dancing and where do you do that best?" They reached the top step of the long staircase and the Shichibukai opened the awaiting wing doors. "In a ballroom."

"We have a ballroom?"

Zoro glimpsed past the other in the... hall, there was no other way to describe it. They stood at a huge gallery, from which, at the sides and in the middle, stairs of white marble led down to a huge dance floor, almost as big as the hall where the Marine ball had taken place.

"Of course, Roronoa. This is a castle, in the past balls used to happen here, hence the ballroom."

“Aha…”

In the twilight of the day, which illuminated the room more or less through the huge, dusty windows, the hall did not look as impressive as Mihawk probably intended. Abandoned spider webs hang from once golden candlesticks and chandeliers, heavy wall curtains looked monotonous and grey due dust.

"Well, Roronoa." Suddenly the Shichibukai bowed deeply in front of him and offered his hand. "Do you give me the honor of a dance?"

One second, Zoro stared at the other in confusion.

"Oh, drop that," he murmured, leaving the other one behind and walking down the stairs to the hall.

"Tze, impossible." The elder's steps followed him. "Are you really sure you want to do this?"

"With every word you say, less," Zoro replied grinning, turning to the Shichibukai as they arrived at the end of the steps. "But I want to get better, whatever it takes."

"So outrageous." Mihawk offered him a hand again. "What a bold disciple you are."

Instead of answering, Zoro reached out this time and allowed Mihawk to pull him into a dance position.

"You enjoy this way too much," he growled, putting his free hand on the shoulder of the Shichibukai. Once again, he noticed that the smaller size difference made it easier than in his other form.

"Oh, just a little bit." At first, he smiled, but then the elder got serious. "I have no preference whether you want to practice Haki or not in this exercise as well; it would probably make more sense, but as you said, the main focus is that you keep your body in perfect harmony even in unexpected movements, in order not only to react but also to act."

With his elbow, Mihawk pushed Zoro's arm up.

"That is why I expect you to keep a perfect posture. Rather resign from using Haki than that your posture lacks because of it and focus on it only when you no longer make any other mistakes. I want you to dance as well as if this were the most important part of your life, as if you wanted to make Kanan proud."

"What?" Mad, Zoro looked up to the other. "Listen, I know what the point of this exercise is - it was my damn idea - but I don't have to like it, okay?"

Disapprovingly, Mihawk clicked his tongue.

"You do not seem to understand, Roronoa, _even though_ it is your idea. As long as you resist, you cannot embrace it and every resistance in your mind becomes a resistance in your body, you know that."

Damn, that sounded understandable.

"Okay," Zoro grumbled, scolding himself for his own shitty idea.

"Now, stop sulking, Roronoa. I like your idea; it is a useful way for me to represent your fighting partner without putting you in danger."

"Yeah, great," he commented sarcastically.

"Oh, Roronoa. You are right, swordfighting and dancing are not dissimilar. A good fighter is usually also a good dancer and vice versa." The other grabbed Zoro's hand more firmly. "And I am the best swordsman in the world."

Things happened fast. Before Zoro knew what was happening, the Shichibukai dragged him through the room. This had nothing to do with the dancing Zoro had known so far. Until now, they had repeated steps to a steady beat and repeated them until Zoro had memorized them.

But now the Shichibukai hardly seemed to pay attention to him, simply pulling him along and hurling him through the room. In one second, they were at the stairs, in the next directly at the other end of the dance area.

"Be careful about your legwork, Roronoa, my job is not to drag you around."

Zoro huffed in a quiet laughter, he hardly had the feeling of being able to touch the ground at all, so quickly they rushed across the ground.

"Do not look down, you twist yourself too much."

"Slow down, I can’t keep up."

"No." The next moment, the Shichibukai pushed him away, only to pull him back in the same breath. "Your job is to keep up. I am not going to adapt to your skills. You want to get better? Then get better."

What kind of training had Zoro bestowed on himself?

Within a few minutes, he was out of breath and sweating all over his body. The training of the morning seemed like nothing more than a small stretching exercise in comparison. Why was dancing suddenly so exhausting?

"You are too tense," Mihawk said, as if reading his thoughts. “Your approach is wrong. It is like you said, I am your opponent, superior to you by miles, throw yourself through the room as it suits me, and what are you doing? Thinking about possible dance steps? Trying to listen to the rhythm of some non-existent song?"

Out of nowhere, the Shichibukai slapped his cheek without his hand seeming to leave Zoro's shoulder blade for even the shortest moment.

"Wake up, Roronoa! We are not dancing on some kind of ball; this is our first real fight!"

It was like a lightning strike. It had been an idea – just some stupid idea – and now Mihawk was totally serious. Although he had only heard of it less than half an hour ago, he already seemed to have a plan, and Zoro could hardly believe it. But it didn't matter. This was not a dance, no training idea, no dry practice, no practice; it was just as Mihawk said, this was their very first fight.

Zoro's heartbeat slowed down and for a moment the world became quiet. Exactly, it was like a fight, a fight against a hopelessly invincible opponent. Slowly a grin crept over his lips, such fights were his favorite. For a second, he closed his eyes and slowly absorbed everything, sharpening his senses, awakening all his abilities, opening his mind.

"So Haki it is," the Shichibukai muttered, but Zoro ignored him. "Well, I will not make it that easy for you."

The next moment Zoro stumbled and was about to fall, but the other pulled him up again. Evil grinned Mihawk down to him.

"Come on, my little frog, jump."

So, he did enjoy it. Zoro immediately recognized this grin. It was the same as when Mihawk had realized that Zoro was Lady Loreen, the same grin as when Mihawk had lifted him into the air and almost crushed his throat. It was the same grin as when Zoro had asked him if Mihawk had enjoyed fighting his demon.

"Who's bold now?" He grumbled, grabbing the other more firmly, almost simultaneously putting an invisible armor over his skin.

"Is this armor on purpose?" Mihawk asked directly. "Otherwise stop it. It is of no use for the moment, you won't be able to hurt me one way or another, and you are not ready to focus on it."

Zoro remained silent, he also had no breath to answer, while he tried to follow the steps of the other. Clearly this wasn't dancing, he just tried to touch the ground in time before he would stumble.

"Are you not listening? No armor."

He had to adjust his breathing otherwise he would lose it and his heartbeat would become hectic, which would make calm thinking difficult and he had to be calm if he wanted to analyze and defeat his opponent.

“Roronoa!”

Suddenly they stopped, somewhere in the middle of the room. Angry, the Shichibukai stared down at him.

"Concentrate, will you?" Mihawk let him go. "Otherwise this will not work."

“What?” Why was the other suddenly angry? "What's your problem?"

"My problem is that you do not listen. This is not harmless, understood?"

"You just said that you don't care if I use Haki or not, so..."

"I wouldn't have a problem with it if you had deliberately chosen to use your Busoshoku Haki, but you did not, right?" Mihawk grabbed his hand and placed the other on Zoro's shoulder blade. "Roronoa, your strength - your talent - is your incredible control over yourself. You will only be able to defeat me if you get better in the one thing that I have not perfected."

"Kindness, respect, empathy, modesty, pa..."

"Control!" The Shichibukai barked, blushing.

Zoro just grinned at him.

"You bold child, what I am telling you is important, so do not make any jokes about it."

He stopped grinning when the other looked down at him almost disappointed. He didn't like it; he didn't want to be a disappointment - not a _waste of time._

"Roronoa, you have to understand. This is not just about you; this is also about what I want. I know exactly how good you are, and I know exactly what you are missing and your only advantage against me is your control, so it may never waver if you ever want to be a match for me."

"Why are you suddenly so serious? I know all that."

The Shichibukai sighed heavily. But then he smiled.

"Alright. Let us move on."

"No."

Mihawk had already taken the first step and was visibly struggling to interrupt himself.

"Excuse me?"

Zoro took a deep breath. He had thought that the Shichibukai had acted weird, but now he was exactly the same again, quickly slipping from one mood to the other. But what just happened was...

"You’re lying."

"What?" Now the elder looked at him almost shocked.

"When you get so angry for no reason, there's usually a reason I don't know."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Mihawk tried to interrupt him, but Zoro continued to speak.

"Why are you stressing this? Why are you so angry that I didn't pay attention to my Haki for one second? You act like it's a bad thing, but why should it? What are you hiding from me?"

Laughing, Mihawk let him go and turned away. He walked a few steps away before turning back to Zoro.

"Roronoa, you do scare me sometimes."

"That means I’m right."

The elder nodded and went into the starting position. Zoro sighed, then he stepped towards the Shichibukai and took his hand. Surprisingly slowly they turned; the first time Zoro was able to keep up with the elder's step sequences.

"For people like us, control is absolutely essential," Mihawk explained calmly, "we have powers that others can only dream of, strong enough to destroy others and ourselves."

Zoro listened attentively. He had no idea what the other’s point was; it wasn't as if Mihawk hadn't explained something like this roughly a thousand times, but the way he sounded now, the way he had behaved the last few days, all this made Zoro listen.

"What did Jiroushin tell you about me?" The elder asked abruptly.

Confused, Zoro looked up, but Mihawk's gaze was not placed on him, those yellow eyes seemed to look at something in the far distance.

“That you can't control yourself. That by nature you don't have any self-regulation."

Once again, the elder smiled.

"Oh, good old Jiroushin, he is probably not that much off the way." Then the Shichibukai looked at Zoro. "And yet he is wrong."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, Roronoa, is that not obvious? I used to be like you. "

“What?”

Once again, they turned.

"Oh yes, I was not always this uncontrollable monster the whole world is afraid of. I was a very talented swordsman and did not shy away from any fight that could be interesting. My control was one of a kind and even as a child I was better than most adults. Of course I could never get close to Sharak, but I certainly did not need to hide in her shadow and yes, there was hardly a fight I did not want to lead, even against the weaker, as long as they were worth it."

"And what happened then?"

"My sister died, my mother died, and my control did not matter anymore." Mihawk tilted his head slightly. "I was not quite honest with you; you will probably be able to defeat me even if you do not perfect your own control. But that would be a fate I would like to spare you from."

"Why?"

"Because then your only hope for a real fight will be a bold child, who you have to train yourself in the constant worry of killing him by mistake." The elder was still smiling almost too softly. "Control is not about absolute strength, Roronoa. It may even be a hindrance; I am probably much stronger because I can never fully regulate myself."

Zoro turned within the arms of the other.

"But if you become the best the same way I did, Roronoa, then it will be a lonely burden. Believe me, I know exactly what I am talking about. "

Silently, he pondered about the other's words.

"I'm not going to let that happen," Zoro grumbled resolute, grabbing the other man's hand tightly.

"I've long since decided that I don't want to defeat you just once." The other's eyes became big, but Mihawk said nothing. "I want to fight you a thousand times and win every single one and then I want to defeat you a thousand more times as Loreen and since I don't want to kill you by accident, that means I will perfect my control, no matter how difficult that may be."

Mihawk turned his gaze away.

"You are indeed impossible," he muttered, looking up again. "You know you just confessed to me that you do not want to kill me in our all-important battle?"

Zoro snorted with a laugh.

"Did you really believe that after all that happened, I would still do that? You're really annoying and sometimes I wonder how I can even stand you, but I'm not going to kill you because of that."

Suddenly the elder picked up the pace and Zoro realized once again that, despite his big words, he was far from where he wanted to be.

"And once again I underestimated you, Roronoa," laughed the elder, "so come on, get stronger and defeat me."


	54. Chapter 50 - Gardening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you a lovely first monday of the year,
> 
> I hope everything is going well for you and you have the time to enjoy a sweet little chapter ;-)   
> I have not much more to say except for: enjoy!
> 
> See you friday^^

Chapter 50 - Gardening

-Zoro-

"Welcome back," he murmured, without looking up from his book.

The Shichibukai muttered something approving and dropped on his armchair, clumsily taking off his boots, a sign of how exhausting his day must have been.

"How was it?" Zoro asked mildly interested.

"Loud," Mihawk commented dryly, rose again, and walked on socks over to the little tea table with a variation of booze, which he usually rarely touched as he preferred his wine.

"I’d like one, too," Zoro remarked, continuing reading.

"I suppose you mean a glass of water."

"Oh, come on, don't act like that. Some whiskey won't kill me."

He could feel the elder's resolute gaze and waved it off.

"Lirin asked after you," Mihawk then calmly explained and sat down again, taking a deep sip from his glass, which was way too full. “She was actually upset that you did not come along.”

Zoro raised only an eyebrow.

"I think Jiroushin would disagree," he said, flipping a page.

"Well, Jiroushin was so excited, I think he would have forgiven you for the G-6 if you had asked him."

"So, everything went well?"

Exhaling loudly, the Shichibukai nodded and leaned back.

"Everything went well, Jiroushin is a father now." Then Mihawk smiled and it was one of those few honest moments Zoro had seen him smile. "Luckily, all went well. A healthy child, strong, the doctors say, especially considering that Lirin is no young woman. But both are doing well, and everybody was overly excited. It is a miracle that this little brat was even able to sleep with all the turmoil."

Zoro watched the other from the corner of his eye as he continued to speak.

"I mean, I know I am not really a family man, but for heaven’s sake, how many members does an average family have? And why are they all so loud? I do not know how many strangers just hugged me – without even asking - it was horrible; who likes such family celebrations?"

"Well, at least that won't happen to us," Zoro remarked absently, turning back to his book.

"Excuse me?" Half a glance told him that the Shichibukai had just sat down and looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"

"What am I supposed to mean by that? Your only family is your father, whom you can't stand the least. I don't have a family. Therefore, neither you nor I will ever have family celebrations."

He could hear the elder placing down his glass.

"What a relief," he sighed loudly.

"However, my crew is certainly just as exhausting and you are now actually part of Jiroushin's family, aren’t you, godfather Hawky."

Now Zoro looked up to see the frozen expression of the Shichibukai, who unfortunately caught himself too quickly.

"I am not anything like that just yet," Mihawk grumbled, taking another sip, "only after the baptism I will receive a place of honor in this exhausting family. By the way, you will accompany me to that; Lirin has made it quite clear that even death would not be an acceptable excuse for your absence."

"Oh geez." Zoro scratched his face. "This woman is quite a handful."

Then he noticed how Mihawk was watching him seriously. Zoro quickly lowered his hand and put on a nasty grin.

"But let's face it, poor kid, who would come up with choosing you as godfather?"

Mihawk's gaze met his, but obviously he allowed to be sidetracked by Zoro’s distraction.

"Oh Roronoa, you are doing me wrong," he chuckled lightly. "You forget who I am. As the last Dracule, I am one of the richest people in the world and I have no heirs, I descend from the World Aristocrats and have more influence than some kingdoms. I am also one of the strongest and most powerful warriors in the world. Jiroushin would be stupid not to put a helpless infant under my protection."

"Idiot." Zoro decided to read on.

"How was that?"

Groaning, he looked up again.

"Do you really think Jiroushin asked you because of something like that?" 

For a moment, the elder looked at him thoughtfully.

"Roronoa, any emotional motivations aside, such important decisions should always be based on rational motives. I am aware, of course, that Jiroushin and I have been close friends for a long time, but I am not the type of person you want to have around your child and I am certainly not a role model. The only thing I can be of use for Jiroushin's brat is with my money, my reputation, and my power."

"As I said," Zoro replied unimpressed, "you're an idiot."

“Roronoa!”

Mihawk grabbed the book out of his hand, but Zoro just grinned.

"Even if you're the best swordsman in the world and maybe even the best teacher I could have, do you really think I would deal with your annoying bantering and arrogant behavior just because of that? Tze."

The Shichibukai looked at him stunned.

"And I think for Jiroushin it's the same. Power, wealth, and position don't make true friends, Mihawk, especially not with such a shitty character as yours. Believe me, those things are probably even less important for Jiroushin than for me. The only reason he was stupid enough to choose you as godfather is because you are friends and nothing else."

Zoro got up and took the book out of the other's hands. The envelope - which Zoro had carelessly used as a bookmark - fell to the ground; the Shichibukai reached it first.

"A letter from Eizen?" His voice told Zoro only too well, that the elder reacted far too wary. "And you have not even opened it yet?"

"I don't have to," Zoro grumbled, trying to reach for the letter, but he stood no chance against the long arms of the Shichibukai. “It's not important. Nothing you'd have to get upset about.”

"It is a letter from Eizen, Roronoa, and you want to tell me that it is irrelevant? You do not even know what..."

"It's a check, okay?"

Now the other looked at him with surprise and let his hands sink back into his lap.

"A check?" Mihawk asked suspicious.

"Yes, once a month he sends me a check, as compensation for the fact that I – Lady Loreen – am always on call. The letters are lighter than the others, I recognize it. So it's really nothing important.”

The Shichibukai threw him a questioning glance and, as Zoro sighed in surrender, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out the check.

"And you use this check as a bookmark?" He asked, his eyes scurrying over the document.

"What else am I supposed to do with it?" Zoro replied with a shrug.

"Something useful?" Mihawk said with a raised eyebrow and looked at him again. "This is dead capital, Roronoa."

"I don't really care. I don't want his money and I'm not going to discuss it with you now. I don’t give a crap about those checks."

"Have you destroyed the previous ones?"

It should come as a surprise to Zoro that the elder didn't even break off an argument, but he was too tired to think about it.

"No, they are in my room, in the right bedside table. If you want them, you can have them. I don't care.”

Mihawk pushed the check back into its envelope.

"Even if I do not approve your collaboration with this man, Roronoa, I would advise you to at least take advantage of it. These aliments could prove very useful for you. Surely you do not have any savings? Do you have any belongings apart from your swords and what I have given to you? What do your crew's financial resources look like...?"

"Mihawk!" He interrupted the other with a grunt and rubbed his neck. "I don't care about anything like that. I have my swords, clothes to put on, and no empty stomach. I don't need blood money. As I said, if you want it, take it; right bedside table, bottom drawer."

Reassuringly, the elder raised both hands.

"As you wish, Roronoa, I will not force you to do anything. But are you sure? Even if I accept and respect your attitude, it seems naive and negligent to me not to use these aliments."

"I think we just have to agree to disagree," Zoro concluded the discussion, shrugging his shoulders again. "I'm going to bed now, I'm tired, and we're not going to train today, right?"

"Of course not, not before you get better."

He stopped.

"I'm fine, so that means we can train now?"

"Nonsense." To Zoro's surprise, the Shichibukai stood behind him and looked down at him seriously. "With such an injury, it is important that you take time to recover."

Before Zoro could even say anything, the elder put a hand on his bandage.

"Back off! It's just a cut, nothing to get upset about." He slapped the other's hand away and rubbed the bandage that covered half of his face and left ear. "Now stop looking at me like that and stop worrying. That's not a real injury, just a..."

"Do not play it down, Roronoa."

He didn't like it, the way Mihawk always looked at him, since Zoro wore the bandage, almost as if...

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

As expected, the elder dodged his gaze.

"It was my idea, Roronoa, and I bear the responsibility for it. I should not have proposed it, it was reckless and..."

"Shut up."

Today the other passed even his own limits in being annoying. Zoro sighed.

"So to make this clear: It was your idea and I joined in – and if you ask me, it was much better than my idea with dancing – so don't look at me so pathetic and stop feeling sorry for you. Does it hurt? Yes. Will it leave a scar? Yeah. Are you an idiot because you are now plagued by a bad conscience? Hell, yeah!"

"Once again, you are extremely rude."

"And once again, you are extremely annoying. I'm going to bed now.”

He started walking.

"Roronoa," the Shichibukai called after him, "if you want, we can at least dance for a bit, tomorrow."

“Okay.”

Even if Zoro would never admit it out loud, he had to at least admit to himself that he did enjoy dancing. It had little to do with what he had to learn for the Marine ball, much more it was that the Shichibukai simply ran through the room and hurled Zoro around and he somehow had to try to keep up.

He was far from influencing the dance himself, but whenever Zoro looked up, he saw the other's fine grin and Zoro knew the Shichibukai was having fun. The past few weeks they had not only danced – fortunately not only – but worked on some other things, but since Zoro wore the bandage around his head, Mihawk had literally forbidden him to even leave the castle.

The last few days Zoro had actually spend with doing nothing but reading on the sofa. The Shichibukai had even forbidden Perona to ask Zoro to help her with her gardening and had ordered her to make sure that Zoro did not do anything straining – it had been so annoying – especially for the two days the Shichibukai had been gone.

The day before last night, Mihawk had received a call that he was urgently about to come to Sadao – the island on which Jiroushin and Lirin lived – and the previous early morning the Shichibukai had reported that the child had been born.

Because of the injury, Zoro had not been able to travel with him, to his relieve, because since his last dispute with Jiroushin they had not exchanged one word and he was sure that the soldier had just more important things to worry about, moreover, Zoro had no desire for stranger’s family celebrations at all.

But for another reason he was glad that he didn't have to travel. It was true that the wound was annoying and itching, but when he transformed... Zoro sighed.

Mihawk had said that it was fortunate that Lady Loreen did not suffer any scars, no matter what, at some point the scars always faded away in that body. After all, Zoro would now bear a mark on his face for the rest of his life and it would help him to disguise that he and Lady Loreen were one and the same person.

Zoro disagreed. He had no problem with scars, on the contrary, he carried them with pride about the past fights he had fought and decisions he had made, and as Lady Loreen he would never be able to show that pride. Zoro also had no problem with pain, it showed that one was still alive.

But the wound healed more slowly in the other body and even if he would never tell Mihawk, it fucking hurt as Loreen. Arriving in his room, Zoro dropped with his face forward on his bed and allowed his urging body to change, within a few heartbeats his body obeyed and the wound over his left cheek began to throb painfully. The pressure against the mattress hardly helped.

Biting his lip, he hit the pillow several times while lying to endure the pain, this wound was by far the most painful of all his injuries as Loreen and so he avoided this body as long as possible. But now he would have to tolerate it several hours in this body, knowing that this pain would make any sleep impossible.

“Roronoa.”

Damn it! He had forgotten to lock the door – wait a second, he didn’t even know if the door actually had a lock, he had never thought about it, but given how often the other just came into his room… - he should have locked the damn door.

"I'm fine," he murmured into the blanket, the slight jaw movement already enough to make him wince in pain.

"You are a bad liar."

He could hear the Shichibukai coming closer.

"Just leave me alone," Zoro muttered softly in order to move his face as little as possible, "it just takes time to heal. Nothing to worry about."

The chair next to Zoro's bed scratched across the floor.

"It takes time and the right care. When was the last time you changed the bandage?"

Zoro shrugged his shoulders but pushed himself up. Mihawk sat right in front of him, a small kit with bandage material on his lap.

"Well, come here, let me see."

"Perona can do this."

The Shichibukai nodded.

"She could, but only if you would let her, right?"

Zoro rolled with his uninjured eye and crouched down on the bedside while Mihawk began to undo his already loose bandage, with each layer the pressure eased and the pain increased.

"I told you to change the bandage after every transformation, or at least once a day," the elder scolded him.

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't wear a bandage at all," Zoro replied grumpily, but didn’t move.

"Yes, that is why I set the rules."

The rest of the bandage fell into Zoro's lap and the fresh air burned in the wound. It took all his willpower not to wince due to the pain. Even after almost a week, it hurt as much as on the first day.

"Does not look bad at all," the Shichibukai judged, throwing the dirty bandage to the ground before swiping a disturbing strand of Zoro's hair aside.

Zoro wanted to answer something, but only flinched in pain when Mihawk began to clean the wound with a damp swab; in the free hand he held the still almost full bottle of some fluid, which Zoro had not even used and wasn’t really aware of what it was for.

"You have to be careful that the edges of the wound remain supple and do not form a dry crust that could tear even deeper."

"Not my... first wound," Zoro squeezed out between gritted teeth.

"Given that, your self-care is especially lacking."

Silently, Zoro let the other do what he had to, buried his hands in his lap and fought against the pain; he would probably never get used to it, this body was so much more sensitive.

"Maybe we should let you rest tomorrow as well," Mihawk pondered aloud.

"No," Zoro disagreed, looking at him seriously, "in my body... I'm fine.”

He had to inhale deeply as the elder sprayed the strange fluid on his wound. Mihawk did not respond but held a pad towards him.

"Press it on as I take care of the bandages."

Without replying, Zoro followed the order.

"It still seems to hurt a lot," the Shichibukai remarked thoughtfully. “I know you do not think much of medication, but maybe you should take some painkillers so you can sleep through the night.”

"No."

Displeased, the elder clicked his tongue.

“Stop fighting this useless battle. If we want to resume dancing tomorrow, you should be as well rested as possible."

Zoro grumbled only dissatisfied, but otherwise kept quiet.

"Done." Mihawk leaned back while Zoro began to braid his long hair quickly so it was out of the way. Now that the wound had been wrapped again and the burning had subsided a little, it didn't hurt as much, but it still annoyed him.

"You are getting better at this," the Shichibukai muttered, curiously bending forward, his eyes a little too fixated on Zoro's hands. "There is something fascinating about these motions."

"Not really."

"You should sleep a little bit for now." The elder rose. "Tomorrow we will see how far we can go.”

-Mihawk-

Not far.

Roronoa tried to let it not be noted, but not only was his view influenced by the concealed eye. He had difficulties with balance and stability, misjudged distances and his limited field of view seemed to bother his orientation, which was far from good either way.

In addition, his visible, pinched eye showed that he obviously had at least a headache.

Mihawk stopped.

"That is enough for today," he said, aware of the awaiting dispute.

"No," Roronoa growled immediately, "I can go on. We already wasted enough time..."

"This time there will be no discussion, Roronoa," he said coolly, turning around. "I think you had an excellent idea to replace the fight with a dance, but here as well it is necessary that you are physically resilient and have a clear mind."

He walked through the empty room. In recent weeks, Perona had spent some of her free time making this room presentable again. Meanwhile, the tiles and walls of green stone shone impressively under the candlelight of the shimmering chandeliers. Even the old wall-hangings had regained their blood-red color.

"From now on, you will be permanently restricted in your view. Your body has to get used to it and it has to recover for that. You certainly barely slept last night. We have had this argument many times and I am tired of repeating myself.”

He briefly looked over his shoulder at the other.

"I do want us to be able to continue your training soon, but not in this way. I will now drink a glass of wine and read the newspaper. You can follow when you are done with sulking."

In recent months, Mihawk had learned that this tactic was far more efficient than getting involved in a discussion with the younger one, because such a discussion he could only lose.

He had almost reached the top of the stairs when he heard the other follow him.

"It’s not even noon yet," Roronoa grumbled as he closed up to him.

"It is never too early for wine."

At the top of the stairs, he waited for his protégé.

"Why do you always take this way?" The younger one remarked as they descended the stairs on the other side. "You know there are two doors down there that you can get into the ballroom without walking stairs?"

"But these are the doors for the servants and the commoners, Roronoa, not for us."

"Speak for yourself." From the corner of his eye, he saw the other's eye roll. "Moreover, this island has no staff, commoners, or anyone else. There is only you, me, Perona, and a bunch of monkeys."

"Are you talking about me?" At the lower heel of stairs Perona walked by, untying her apron. Presumably she had just finished the kitchen work and wanted to go to the garden now. "Are you done training already?"

"For today, Roronoa needs to rest."

"I don't," the other growled, before turning to the castle's guest. "Do you need help outside? If we don't do anything today, I can also come to the garden."

"Roronoa," he rebuked the younger one, "we do not let your training rest just so that you can dig through dirt. Your wound must heal."

"Back off. Some gardening won't kill me."

"So actually... " Perona interrupted them with a shy smile. " ... I don't have much to do, today. The Humandrills are a great help to me, but I have given them the day off. I just wanted to plant a few potatoes; I can do that on my own."

"You see, Roronoa. She can do it on her own."

Roronoa again rolled his visible eye but raised both hands while Perona hurried on.

The two swordsmen also went on, although Mihawk had to admit that the ghost girl surprised him. She seemed to be able to communicate with the primates without any problems, but even more astonishing was that the bloodthirsty, battle-seeking warriors had developed into tame gardeners under Perona's presence.

They still disappeared as quickly as they could the moment Mihawk approached them, but their former willingness to violence seemed little more than a fading memory.

Only now he noticed the younger's gaze.

"Is something wrong, Roronoa?"

But the other just grinned and went to the fireplace room, where he dropped on his favorite sofa and pulled out one of the books.

Mihawk did the same and settled on his armchair. By now Roronoa had translated the third book and Mihawk was missing only a few pages until the end, but he wanted to save them until later, so he read the newspaper first.

"Say," the younger one muttered abruptly, "you said yesterday that I would have to go to the baptism, but when is that? Will I still be here?"

Like a throbbing wound, there was no other way for Mihawk to describe the pain when Roronoa reminded him again that the current state would not last forever.

"You do not need to worry about that. In Jiroushin's family, children are traditionally baptized between six months and a year. It is long enough for your wound to heal well, but you will still be there."

Roronoa just nodded, turning back to his book.

Mihawk considered on continuing the conversation, but at that moment the door opened and a dirty Perona came in.

"Uhm, sorry." She bowed like a maid. "I do need some help."

"For what?"

To Mihawk's surprise, Roronoa quickly sat up, honest interest in his face.

"Oh, nothing important, the piece of garden that I have chosen is only very stony and I have some issues with the rake, therefore..."

"No problem, I'll help you."

"No, Roronoa." Mihawk had gotten up a second faster than the younger one and held him back with one hand. "I said you have to rest."

"But..."

"If it is so necessary, then I will lend her a hand."

"You?" Both Perona and Roronoa sounded surprised, but she raised both hands directly defensively. "Well, it's not that urgent..."

"Tze, after all, I am the Lord of this island, I will help you and you, Roronoa, you rest. "

"You're so annoying, I'm fine," the younger one grumbled.

"If you want to make yourself useful, you can translate the next book."

With these words he followed Perona, who seemed anything but enthusiastic, for once they seemed to share the same mood. He followed her through her garden, which belonged to him, and quietly confessed that it was indeed developing magnificently.

Until now, he had only entered the garden once, the day after returning from his journey from the G-2. Jiroushin and Roronoa had helped Perona from time to time, he had rejected this from the bottom of his heart. Mihawk did not think much of sweaty, dirty work and digging in the dirt was certainly not on his wish list.

Perona stopped at a small field and looked up shyly.

"Well, here it is."

To his right stood a small wooden wheelbarrow – which he had never seen in his life – with many potato tubers in it, beside it leaned rake, shovel, and other tools.

"Well, Perona, tell me what to do."

She looked at him with huge eyes and did not move at all. He was pleased to see that he could still intimidate her so easily. Luckily, Roronoa's boldness did not seem to rub off on her, pleasing Mihawk, indeed.

"I... I," she stammered, "I... shall give you... instructions?"

She trembled all over her body and Mihawk had to suppress a grin about her fear. However, he disliked the fact that she was right.

"Perona," he clearly called her by name, and she saluted like a soldier, "you are certainly aware that I am a son of a good family."

She nodded sharply.

"And as such, of course, I have never had to get my hands dirty on anything like gardening. So, if I am going to help you, you will have to explain to me how."

For a second nothing happened at all, then she took a deep breath and reached for an object that looked like an ugly fork.

"You have to loosen the ground with this bar spade. It's relatively firm and stony, so it's a bit difficult.”

Mihawk took the tool from her and watched her take another fork, stepping on the field and forcibly smashing the tool into the ground and shaking it slightly. She repeated it several times, and also used her foot to help.

"You see, as simple as that."

He walked onto the field as well and followed her example, watching her how she grabbed the fork, and copying her. The work was not really exhausting, at least not for him, Perona seemed to see it a little differently, but he did not care.

In silence they continued to work, from time to time Mihawk also encountered harder resistance or stone, but he doubted that the young girl, who also worked diligently, would not be able to do it alone if necessary, after all she just did the same work, repeatedly picked up stones and threw them away.

"And for that you needed help?" He asked, pushing his fork deep into the ground again.

"To be honest, no."

Surprised, he looked up, but she quickly dodged his gaze. Embarrassed, she rubbed her forearm over her face, straightened her gloves, and then continued her work.

"You know, I actually do most of the work pretty good on my own. Of course, I'm much faster with the Humandrills, but actually I don't really need Zoro's help."

This confession infuriated him.

"So why are you stealing the time he needs to train?"

Frightened, she stared at him and took a few hurried steps back.

"Because he... because he..."

"Talk, I am not going to bite your head off." Gruff, he dug his fork back into the ground.

"Well, because he... because he enjoys it."

Once again, she surprised him.

Smiling quietly, she continued: "You've never worked in the garden, so you can't know, but it's incredibly good for the soul to work with the earth."

He dared to doubt that.

"Zoro always grumbles when I ask him for help, and he pretends to find it annoying, but he actually really likes it. We had a lot of fun with Jiroushin and laughed a lot."

She dared to look at him.

"Sometimes, when I feel that Zoro is getting too serious or brooding too much, I think about tasks that he could help me with. Because as soon as he has worked in the dirt for an hour and two, he starts to be happy."

For Mihawk, it all sounded like a nurse's tale, but he remembered well how willingly Roronoa had offered his help, even asked for it himself. Maybe she really was right. He looked thoughtfully at the fork in his hand, then nodded and continued his work.

Eventually, Perona put her fork aside and began to pull deep furrows with a small hoe where they had already loosened the ground.

With every minute that passed, Mihawk realized that this annoying, ugly work seemed somehow relaxing. He understood what the ghost girl had meant; it was a good job.

He watched Perona attentively as she tore wide, deep paths into the ground, throwing aside smaller and larger stones with an easiness he had not expected her to have.

Suddenly she looked up and stared at him with her round eyes.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, trembling immediately. "Did I do anything wrong?"

Shaking his head, Mihawk returned to work.

"I must confess, you surprise me, Perona," he admitted with a faint smile, pushing the fork deep into the ground, "you have changed a lot."

"You... you think?" With a quiet thump, her tool fell to the ground. "Thank you very much!"

He ignored her bowing.

"You should not thank me, girl, you yourself have gone this path."

After loosening the rest of the field, he looked for a tool similar to the one used by the ghost girl and imitated her work again.

"I didn't even realize I had changed that much," she muttered quietly behind him. "I always thought you couldn't stand me."

"I do not," he confirmed nonchalantly, without even looking up. "But my opinion of you does not change your development."

He felt her gaze and continued calmly: "When we met at first, you were a whiny, pampered brat, who wanted someone else to make the decisions and take responsibility for you. You were like a child who did not want to grow up and you relied too much on compassion and kindness of strangers."

She stuttered something behind his back.

"But then you decided to stay and decided to find an occupation here in this castle that makes you happy. You even befriended the Humandrills and somehow managed to make these dull warriors turn into even duller gardeners. Even though I may not like you, I can tolerate you much better than I used to."

When there was no reaction, he looked up.

Perona knelt behind him in the loose earth, the hoe in her lap, with trembling lips and tearful eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that," he rebuked more gently than intended, "it is a rational observation, no praise, so stop looking like it was."

She nodded, rubbed her eyes, and got up again.

"However, you are still a disappointment. You got into gardening and read all these books – by the way, if you borrow books from the library, please put them back in the right place – but still let your skills degenerate. What is the point of acquiring a devil's power if you do not use your abilities?"

Without waiting for an answer, he continued to work. Soon he had reached the last furrow and Perona began to plant the small potatoes from the wheelbarrow in the tracks. Again and again she snuffled and rubbed her eyes with the hem of her gloves.

But if he had hurt her, then it was not his problem.

When he got up and took the hoe away, she unexpectedly followed him and pressed a leaf rake into his hand.

"Put a light layer of soil over the potatoes, but make sure it's not too much and that you don't damage the potatoes," she explained, snuffing again.

He nodded and went back to the field.

"You know," she said behind him, and there was no trembling in her voice, "you changed quite a bit as well."

Slowly, he straightened up and turned to her as she allowed herself to judge him. She seemed to have noticed his gaze, as she raised both hands defensively, but much more impressive was that she was still looking at him.

"I'm pretty moved by the fact that you seem to have watched me so much and thought about me," she said.

Mihawk thought about explaining her that he was thinking a lot about everything and that her little figure was nothing special. His thoughts on her person had hardly been worth mentioning.

"But in the past you wouldn't have told me something nice, you probably wouldn't have helped me either, and even more I would never have been allowed to explain to you what you can do."

She was indeed right. Mihawk was well aware that Roronoa softened him. An unpleasant habit that he should abandon, but probably would not.

"I still think you’re creepy," she finally said, "but somehow you've become kinder, and not just to Zoro, and Jiroushin told such funny stories about you " - that made him listen - " and so I'm really glad I stayed."

By now they were both working on and quickly they were done. Mihawk had to admit that it had been a pleasant job and he might even repeat it if necessary, but of course he did not say that out loud.

"Well, if that was all, I will take my leave."

Barely nodding, he turned to walk.

"Uhm, Dracule!" She rushed after him and bowed before him. "How could I improve my devil powers?"

Quietly, he clicked his tongue.

"I told you back then that..."

"I know!" She interrupted him hastily. "I know and I have read an incredible amount and thought a lot, but... but I can't get any further. In the beginning you helped me a little bit and I thought..."

He slightly tilted his head, but then she looked up and an unusual fire burned in her eyes.

"I used to have my cuddly toy army and here I have you and Zoro to protect me – " he did not even think of protecting her – "but the longer I watched Zoro, the more I want it. I want to get stronger! I do all the work in the garden myself, no matter how hard it is, because I also wanted to get physically stronger, but I don't know how to use my powers properly. So, I ask you, if you have an idea, just a thought that could help me, please tell me. I don't expect you to teach me or to take me by the hand, but..."

"Enough, stop chattering."

She bit her lower lip but remained silent.

"In order to be able to help you at all, I would need to know exactly which devil's fruit you ate. But I thought that I made myself clear that I am not interested in that."

He walked past her, sighing when she did not reply.

"So Perona, what is your devil's power?"

The sun behind the clouds was already dangerously close to the horizon when Mihawk came back into the fireplace room. Before that, he had spent several minutes in the kitchen washing away the dirt under his fingernails.

In the fireplace room, Roronoa cowered on the floor in front of his sofa. With a smile, Mihawk shook his head.

But when he approached the other, he noticed two things. First, paper and pens were spread around Roronoa, as well as one of his books. Second, Roronoa leaned against his sofa, an arm outstretched on the cushion, his head resting on one shoulder; the younger one had obviously fallen asleep.

For a moment, he looked at his little frog. It was these moments when Mihawk realized how young Roronoa was. This innocent facial expression, half hidden under the bandage, this almost naive confidence to simply lie here, completely relaxed to sleep.

Of course, there was no reason for Roronoa to be suspicious. Nothing could happen to him on this island, Mihawk would make sure of that, and yet this behavior was not self-evident for Mihawk, after all these months still not taken for granted.

He was supposed to leave the other there, maybe throw a blanket over him, but Mihawk could not. The position in which the other was cowering between his documents, like a small child who had fallen asleep while playing, could not be comfortable at all.

Sighing, he lifted the younger one up, bedded his head against his chest, and carried him to his room.

"You fool. Always making me worry about you."


	55. Chapter 51- Leading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> here comes the next chapter! I hope you had a great first week this year and will be able to enjoy this little chapter (maybe with your favourite beverage or while taking a bath or maybe cuddled in some soft blanket, whatever makes you happy^^).
> 
> There is not much more to say than have fun and see you monday ;-)

Chapter 51 - Leading

-Zoro-

"Your right leg needs to be more flexible. Pay attention to your arm posture. Do not get that tense in your hand."

Almost continuously, the Shichibukai corrected him. Considering that Zoro's idea of dancing had been more of a joke, they spent almost a third of their time practicing it – this was almost the only thing Zoro was allowed to do in his true body.

"The shoulder, Roronoa. Raise your feet, I am not going to drag you along."

But the relentless nagging of the Shichibukai meant only one thing, Zoro was by now able to keep up well enough to finally be able to pay attention to his body. For weeks, he had simply tried not to stumble or fall while the elder had thrown him through the room. It had been impossible to additionally pay attention to things like posture or step sequence.

"Take the hip along, it is too stiff, your knees will pay for that."

It wasn't that Zoro was able to realize everything the other corrected, it was just too much information. But things were slowly getting better – at least Zoro thought so – after all, Mihawk had enough time between the individual criticisms to explain something.

Although Zoro had built up a damn good stamina over the last few months, he had to pace himself well. He had no idea how Mihawk still managed to talk almost incessantly. Suddenly, the other pulled him on the tip of his toes, chest to chest, and for a moment they remained in that hovering position. Then it went on.

It was exhausting!

But what was even worse was that Zoro really started to like it. Whenever the Shichibukai announced that they would spend the session dancing, there was no longer the unnerved eye roll, on some days Zoro almost hoped that they would train like that.

Because it was exactly what he had suspected. Although dancing was supposed to be partnership and working together, this here was actually a fight and Mihawk was his opponent, still unreachable for Zoro.

"By the way, I invited Jiroushin for next week," the Shichibukai told almost casually, "I thought you would like to fight with him again in your female form to compare how good you have become."

"I'd like to fight him again no matter what form," Zoro said. Much time had passed since Jiroushin's last visit – and their loud argument – and Zoro doubted that the soldier was the resentful type.

Mihawk rolled his eyes but said nothing.

After two more hours, they finally took a break. Zoro crouched at the foot of the unnecessary staircase and emptied a water bottle over his head.

"No water stains on the railing," the Shichibukai rebuked him like an old housewife.

"Does Jiroushin even have time for something like this?" Zoro used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe water and sweat from his face. "I mean he's a father now."

The elder leaned next to him on the railing and looked down at him.

"I think Lirin might enjoy him gone for a few days. Jiroushin is unfortunately always a bit over-caring, which can be very exhausting in the long run and as I heard he took paternity leave to help Lirin day and night. That poor woman will probably hardly have a minute of rest and then she also has the child to take care of. Be that as it may, Roronoa, we should continue."

Taking a deep breath, Zoro got up, but then he noticed that something was different about the elder's posture, he just didn't know what it was.

"Why do you look at me like that, Roronoa? Come here."

Confused, Zoro stepped forward and then he realized it.

"Exactly, you got it." Zoro grabbed the hand of the Shichibukai. "Now you will lead."

"Why?"

Mihawk placed his free hand on Zoro's shoulder and smiled down at him.

"Well, because I say so."

Suspiciously, Zoro placed his hand under the elder's shoulder blade, and almost at the same time Mihawk bent his knees, leaving them at eyelevel. Zoro disliked the whole thing, it felt wrong and he had no idea why they suddenly swapped roles.

"Now come on, move."

It felt strange, it wasn't that Mihawk dumped his weight on him and yet Zoro felt incredibly heavy, like a devil's fruit user probably had to feel under water.

“Roronoa”. Slowly the elder sounded impatient.

"Um, I..." Zoro stammered slightly overwhelmed, "I don't know how."

“What?”

Confused, the Shichibukai looked at him.

“I don't know what to do.”

"Just start with the basic steps as usual. Maybe something simple, like a waltz, and then we will go further and you will try out some other sequences."

Zoro still didn't move.

"But how?" he muttered.

"How what, Roronoa? Phrase yourself a little clearer."

Zoro let go of the other and took a step back. He didn't like the whole situation at all. He understood what the other wanted from him, but he did not know how to do it, and he disliked this uncertainty more than anything else. Until now, he had never had to deal with how dancing really worked. On Sasaki, he had simply memorized the steps that had been shown to him, and the last few weeks he had simply tried to keep up with the Shichibukai. But it was quite different to take the lead now.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he murmured angrily, "I have no idea how all these dance steps work."

He knew that the task could not be so difficult, a few steps back and forward, but at the same time it seemed impossible for him to move the Shichibukai in any direction only with the help of light gestures. The other looked like a mountain in the raging sea, and Zoro felt more like running into him than being able to push him in any direction.

His own thoughts confused him and he could see how the other looked at him with big eyes before Mihawk straightened up again, now even more the mountain that Zoro was supposed to move.

"But we have been practicing those steps with Kanan," the Shichibukai remarked, apparently as perplexed as Zoro himself.

"Yes, half an eternity ago," he said, grumpy, "and I've only ever practiced the steps of women, I always had to follow and do what you tell me. I never led.”

"What?" A stunned grin slid over Mihawk's face. "But you must have led before? You must have danced before?"

Zoro shook his head.

"But everyone has danced at some point, in a bar or with friends or something."

"Well, I didn't." Zoro folded his arms. " Before this shitty Marine ball, I've never danced in my life."

The Shichibukai laughed quietly before slightly tilting his head and looking attentively at Zoro.

"You are truly incredible."

"What the hell?" Zoro murmured. He didn't like it at all.

"Slowly I understand your fighting style," Mihawk muttered.

"What?" How did the other draw a connection between leading a dance and Zoro’s fighting style?

"Did you never notice?" The elder raised only an eyebrow. "I have always thought of it as odd. Instead of fighting with your full strength from the beginning and claiming victory quickly, you adapt to your opponents and get to know their fighting style until they have reached and exceeded their peak and just then you actually use all your strength, if at all, and of course your opponent is then usually at your mercy because they have exhausted themselves too much."

"What?" Zoro didn't think he was fighting like that. It sounded complicated and annoying, certainly not something, he would do.

Mihawk nodded thoughtfully.

"As I said, this is something very unusual. You seem to be able to fight with anyone, no matter how weak they are, because you can adapt, and you seem to be taking that for granted, quite unconsciously, I have always wondered why."

He didn't like how the other analyzed him.

"You actually seem to be an offensive fighter who attacks rather than blocks, but..." Mihawk remained silent for a moment. " ... but in battle you are the one following, not the leader."

Mihawk took another step forward and stood now right in front of him, his yellow eyes a trace too sharp, a trace too concentrated.

"You have no idea how to control a fight, do you?"

"What?" Now Zoro was quite confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, it is quite obvious, Roronoa. A true sword fight is not dissimilar to a dance, but there are not two partners – one, who leads and the other, who follows - but two opponents, in other words two leaders, who are fighting for control. A fight is about much more than just being the stronger, the _better_ one _._ Who controls the fight, controls how long it takes place, where it takes place, who and what is harmed in the process, and most importantly, how much power they use."

Quietly, the best swordsman in the world laughed.

"I have wondered why you let yourself be led that easily. For a swordsman of your caliber, it was far too easy for you to submit to the leadership of another, especially considering how stubborn and persistent you can be."

Zoro no longer understood a single word. The other was talking nonsense, but he thought he was hearing one or another insult within this nonsense.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He growled. "I don't submit to anyone! I make my own decisions and fight the way I like it, so..."

Mihawk interrupted him with his hand raised.

"Why do you follow the Straw Hat?"

“What?”

"Why did you choose Kuina as your rival?"

“…”

"Why did you go through the whole charade with Lady Loreen?"

"I..."

"You truly like to fight, but given that you start the argument too rarely, though you always finish it."

"What's your point?"

Meanwhile, Zoro was furious, whatever the conversation was supposed to be, the other was slowly going too far. But the Shichibukai nodded only, as if he had finally solved a riddle, apparently did not notice that Zoro was already at the edge.

"Of course. That is why you always improve so quickly during a fight, but in theory you are some lame duck."

“What?”

"You know fighting is like a dance, but you do not understand what that means."

"Then could you finally talk to me in a way that I understand."

Mihawk grabbed him by both shoulders and looked at him seriously.

"Roronoa, a fight is like a dance. The basic exercises are like the basic steps, which is the groundwork for a choreography with different elements. A real fight requires that you already know what your next steps are and that you do not let your opponent hurl you through the room. Your adaptability is important and brings you many advantages in a fight, but you will not reach your full potential until you set the direction and stop letting your enemy guide you."

"I don't understand that."

The elder nodded again.

“That at least is more than obvious. How could I have missed that? I thought you were aware of it and you would adjust intentionally – for the thrill or because you just enjoy playing with your opponent – but no, you lack an absolute foundation. You do not know how to actually fight."

"What the hell?" He had no clue what the hell was going on and slowly he got the feeling that the other was not making fun of him at all. "Of course I know how to fight, you've seen me fighting..."

"Roronoa, you know how to fight a fight, but not how to _lead_ a fight. The winner of a fight is the one who determines and shapes the course of the fight from start to finish, just like the leader in a dance." The Shichibukai clapped his hands loudly. "Well, then we should get rid of this problem quickly. Perona, stop spying on us and come here. We need your help."

"What?" Zoro no longer understood what was going on here.

"Roronoa, I will teach you how to lead." The next moment, Mihawk stood behind him and raised his arms. "This is the right position. Relax your shoulder, you are not a soldier, you are a dancer.”

"Swordfighter!"

"And just for today both will be the same."

Perona came in through one of the side doors.

"What's this all about?" She asked, bewildered.

"Come on over, you are going to dance with Roronoa today."

He still had no idea what Mihawk had been talking about and that the last few hours were no real training session was also more than clear.

The first hour he had done not much more than practice steps. Mihawk had shown them to him and he had copied the Shichibukai’s movements and then he had danced with Perona. It was miserable, even he could see that with his non-existent dance skills. They were not much more than two young children who held each other’s arms and waved back and forth.

"What the hell, this is not working at all," he grumbled dissatisfied with all the time that was getting lost.

"Do not blame me, Roronoa; you do not know how to lead, neither in battle nor in dance, and you have to learn that. It is an elementary basic ability that you are able to determine the course of a fight, especially in your female form. You must not only follow and adapt, you must dictate the form of the fight."

"I hear you talk and talk, but I don't understand a single word." Zoro took another deep breath, forced himself to be patient in front of his teacher, who was probably the only person who managed to pack all the words he knew into one sentence and at the same time saying nothing at all. “You say the same thing all the time, but it doesn't make sense. What does this have to do with a fight?"

"Perona, tell me how does Roronoa lead?"

Perona had been mostly quiet during the last hours, only doing what Mihawk told her. Now she blushed and looked over to the Shichibukai.

"Well…, well..."

"Speak."

"So, I'm sorry, Zoro, but you don't really lead."

Once again, he took a deep breath.

"Well, duh! I don't even know what you want from me and I can't dance!"

"That is lie, Roronoa. Come, let me show you."

At notion of the elder, Perona let go of Zoro and the Shichibukai took her place. With two touches Zoro was back in the position of the partner and Mihawk took the lead as a matter of course. They only took a few steps, but Zoro immediately realized that it was the same dance he had tried to dance with Perona. 

"Good balance, your stride length fits mine just fine, impeccable posture, quick reaction. You dance almost perfectly..." In the middle of the turn, Mihawk let Zoro go and stumbling he came to a halt. "... for a partner."

Then the elder held his hand to Perona, who nodded hesitantly and let herself be embraced by the Shichibukai.

"And now take a good look, Roronoa, this is how a leader dances."

The difference was more than obvious, even for Zoro, who had no clue about dancing. These were the same steps as those that Zoro had tried to dance a few minutes ago, but everything else was completely different.

Mihawk had a presence that flowed throughout the hall, like an unstoppable wave. His attitude was more elegant than Zoro’s, but that was not the essential thing. Each step seemed like a finely guided sword-blow, each arm movement like a flawless evasive maneuver, and Perona in his arm followed each of his steps as if she had never done anything else.

Was that what Mihawk had meant? Was Zoro no more in a fight than Perona right now, who let herself be led through the room by the Shichibukai and looked good at the process? Was this what the Shichibukai had meant?

Did Zoro let his opponent lead him through the room in a real fight until his opponent ran out of energy and collapsed in front of him? Zoro had always thought he was a man who took the lead, paved the way for others, but could it be that he was just _following?_ Did he lead but follow anyway?

"You see, Roronoa, I can do whatever I want with Perona. If I want her to turn, she does, if I want her at the other end of the room, she is there. I have absolute control over this dance and I decide when it ends. Of course, I can only do this because I have the better stamina and physical fitness. But at the end of the day, it is very similar in a fight."

Mihawk stopped and Perona next to him stumbled a step back and struggled for breath.

"Except for the small difference that you do not fight. Do you understand?" Slowly, Zoro nodded. "Very good, then come here and learn to lead."

-Mihawk-

"Are you serious?" Snorting with laughter, Jiroushin threw himself back in his chair. He would almost have tipped over if Mihawk had not grabbed the armrest at the last moment and pulled the chair back on all four. Then the soldier pointed at Roronoa with a broad grin. "You had no idea how to lead a fight?"

With red cheeks, the youngest looked to the side, while Mihawk looked at his best friend with his eyebrow raised, but he decided not to reply to that comment.

"Why do you all make such a big deal out of it? I've coped well in every fight so far and this dancing isn't a real workout anyways. I don't think I can impress an opponent with a chassé." 

Now Mihawk placed his glass on the table.

"Roronoa, I have already told to you that the ability to control a fight can be elementary for victory or defeat, and if you cannot even lead a partner – who _wants_ to follow you – how do you want to direct an opponent according to your will?"

Groaning, Roronoa leaned back and folded his arms.

"This all sounds so incredibly difficult," he complained like a rebellious child. “I don't want to control the fight. I want to have my fun and fight and in the end I want to win."

Angry, Mihawk clicked his tongue, but before he could scold Roronoa, Jiroushin placed both forearms on the dining table and leaned forward.

"Listen, Zoro. I know it can be annoying. But it's important that you learn this. In a practice fight or for fun, it is of course perfectly fine to let yourself be driven by the fight, to observe the strengths and weaknesses of the opponent, to tease a little bit and try one thing or another. But in a real fight, such behavior can have dire consequences."

Roronoa seemed unconvinced, but Jiroushin continued to speak.

"Let's not mention that you could die if you underestimate your opponent; what do you do when the range of your fight expands and suddenly someone is in danger, who you wanted to keep save – or you didn't even know was in danger - or what if you spent too much time or too much power fooling around that you can’t keep up with whoever comes after?"

"No idea," Roronoa grumbled even more dissatisfied, "I cross that bridge when I come to that."

"Oh, Roronoa, what is the point of wasting all those months with strategy training, if you are not even willing to set one up?"

“It's not like I'm not setting one up.” Now the younger one turned to him. "But I just do it as I go, during the fight, the way it fits, and I couldn't remember that this was ever a disadvantage for me..."

"Bartholomew Kuma," Mihawk coolly interrupted.

"What?" He could see that Roronoa was becoming more dismissive. "You know what happened...?"

Rolling his eyes, Mihawk rose to fetch a new bottle of wine from the small table.

"Roronoa, I know everything there is to know about you and your fights."

"Stalker," Jiroushin whispered from his chair, grinning at Mihawk, looking far too young for his age. The soldier had arrived in the early evening hours, just in time to see the end of training and for dinner. The sun had set long time ago, so they sat in the candlelit fireplace room, while Perona had gone to bed early.

"You have no idea what happened then," Roronoa growled slightly irritated. "It wasn't like I was playing with Gecko Moria. We all joined forces to defeat him and Oz. I didn’t hold back or..."

"Not?" Mihawk opened the bottle and turned around. "Do you want to tell me you fought against this zombie from Wano Country right away with all your strength? Did you fight Oz at full strength?"

His protégé's unharmed eye grew large. His wound crossing the other eye had healed quite well by now, but had left a considerable scar, as expected.

"Would things have changed if you had used all your skills right from the beginning? Of course, in retrospect one can only philosophize, but at least things _could_ have taken a different course. You say your way of fighting never had a detrimental effect but let us take a closer look. You allowed yourself to take some time fighting against this samurai-zombie and you allowed him to hurt you. This tiny bit of missing energy may have been noticeable in the fight against Oz and prevented you and your crew from ending this fight faster and less injured. In this case, perhaps the fight against Kuma would have..."

"No." Roronoa stood up. "You have no idea what happened and I'm not going to be accused of things might having ended differently just because the fight against Ryuma lasted a minute too long."

"But that is exactly what happened!" Mihawk came back to the table. "That one minute could have been the momentous difference, Roronoa. Sometimes a few seconds decide over victory or defeat and you want to tell me that a whole minute does not matter?"

"I was inferior to him!" The younger man slammed both fists on the table. "That one minute wouldn't have made me so much stronger than I could have resisted Kuma."

"And that is just a guess," Mihawk replied coolly, placing the bottle hard on the table. "Of course, just like mine. But my approach at least leaves open the small option that it might have been enough, that this one minute might have saved you so much strength that you could have resisted Kuma." Roronoa wanted to disagree, but he continued: "At least you could have endured your captain's pain a little better."

The younger man took a step back and stared at him in horror.

“How do you…?”

Mihawk, on the other hand, sat down again and filled the three empty glasses.

"And maybe your wounds would have healed a little bit better before your fight against Nataku and you would have endured a little longer in jail. Maybe you would have been strong enough to save yourself."

Slowly, he looked at the other. Jiroushin to his right swallowed heavily and right away took a deep sip out of his glass.

"And you want to tell me that it does not matter how you fight? That a minute less or more makes no difference? Tze, what if one of your friends had died in that one minute and you could have helped them if you had only finished the fight? Would you still say that this one minute is unimportant?" He held his glass towards the younger man. "That one minute, Roronoa, probably killed you, so do not tell me that your fighting style does not have any disadvantages for you."

For a long moment the room was dead silent. No one said a word while Roronoa looked at him stunned. Mihawk placed the younger's glass in front of him and then took a sip from his own. At the end, it was Jiroushin who exhaled loudly and ruffled through his hair.

"Oh geez, if you two start there’s no stopping, right?"

"It is the truth, Jiroushin, and Roronoa is just unwilling to see it."

The blond glanced at him, then turned to Roronoa. 

"Zoro. Hawky may have phrased it a little harshly, but he's probably not wrong. You can't change the past now, but you can prevent something like this from happening again in the future."

The younger one took a deep breath and Mihawk could feel the cold stare, but then Roronoa pushed his chair back into position and sat down again.

"As Loreen, you've already learned it," Jiroushin continued quietly, apparently trying to restore the broken harmony, "taking somebody down quickly, because you'll be physically inferior to your opponent. It's actually nothing else and you're good at comprehending your opponent's abilities, so you can use that for yourself."

Roronoa did not answer anything, his face an expressionless mask, and Mihawk wondered if he had gone too far this time, so he remained silent and left it to his best friend to pick up the shards.

“I know it sounds tough. But controlling a fight doesn't mean you can't have fun anymore. In the beginning it is difficult and requires a lot of concentration, but once you get the hang of it, there is nothing more exciting than seeing how the idea in your head becomes reality and your opponent can no longer keep up."

"That I hear you say this," Mihawk muttered almost impressed, but decided not to say any more, well aware that Roronoa was probably not in favor of him right now.

"All of this," Roronoa grumbled, and his voice sounded even rougher than usual, "sounds anything but fun."

With a smile, Jiroushin bowed his head.

"That's because you can't lead just yet."

The younger took a single deep sip and then looked to Mihawk.

"All right, I'll learn it." He put his empty glass down and got up. "I'm going to bed now."

With a more or less polite farewell he went to bed.

"Oh Hawky," the blond whined almost immediately after the door closed, "you can't tell him something like that just like this. You just accused him of..."

"It is the truth, Jirou, and you know I am right. Roronoa wants to protect his crew at all costs but fails to recognize that his behavior poses a potential danger. I have been trying to explain it to him for weeks and he does not understand. Sometimes direct words are the only ones that get to him."

"Oh dear," the other sighed, taking another deep sip, "the two of you are quite exhausting."

Mihawk could only nod.

"But he is indeed interesting," Jiroushin remarked without any grin, "he is only the second swordsman who comes to my mind, who doesn't know that you have to lead a fight, and that at his level."

Again, Mihawk nodded.

“True, which is why I probably never noticed it. I mean, you were almost half as old as he is now and you hate fighting, especially when it is about life or death. It was obvious that you would let yourself be guided by a fight, but Roronoa..." He shook his head before sighing. “He is not doing well if I am honest. I expected it to be easy for him once he understands what to do. But he is not a good leader, and if he is already having such a hard time while dancing - with arranged rules and steps - how can he learn it in a sword fight?"

"Is that really surprising you?" Jiroushin observed thoughtfully. “It's not that he's just always followed, Zoro has a fighting style of his own and now he's got to combine the benefits of both.”

"But for that he would have to understand what it means to lead." Exhausted, Mihawk rubbed his face. "I am glad you are here, Jirou. I know that there is still some stiffness between the two of you, but you stay calm when necessary."

Quietly, the other laughed.

"Maybe that's because I'm not as emotionally involved as you, Hawky. It is true that you are much meaner towards people who are important to you. But towards Zoro you are especially cruel. Do you really think that this is necessary? Or are you trying to hide your feelings?"

As if on command Mihawk blushed.

"One has nothing to do with the other," he coolly denied, emptying his glass. He looked thoughtfully at the chair Roronoa had just left empty.

"Basically, I have nothing against his fighting style," he admitted quietly, "I understand the thrill of trying out how much power you have to muster and analyzing the different techniques of the opponent, but it is as I said, in a real battle such behavior is reckless and selfish and can cause much suffering."

"Listen, who’s talking, I thought you're proud to be selfish, Hawky, and now you're judging Zoro for wanting to have a bit of fun while fighting?"

"You are right, Jirou, I have always been very selfish, even as captain of our crew; you had to take on many of my duties because I just had no interest in it." He knew how his best friend looked at him right now. “But Roronoa is different, he is always ready to die for his friends and puts their happiness far above his own. That time Roronoa was the victim of his mistake, but if he does not change his behavior, the next time his crew could be harmed."

Slowly, Mihawk poured himself some more wine.

"And if I, some selfish egoist, can hardly forgive myself for what happened through my stubborn actions, would Roronoa ever get over it if he could have prevented the suffering of a crewmember?"

“Mihawk?”

Smiling, he shook his head.

"It is true, Jiroushin, I was very fond of being driven by the fight at that time; I wanted to enjoy it when I finally had a worthy opponent, and where did that take us?"

He rose and emptied his glass in one go.

"You are right that I am very strict with Roronoa, it certainly also is because of my feelings for him." But this was an issue far too serious for this thought to unsettle him. "The straw hats are pretty much all the same to me, but they are important to Roronoa. So, I am not going to let what happened to us happen to them. I will not allow Roronoa to shoulder such a guilt."

Jiroushin also got up and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hawky, you know, I would never blame you for what happened then. I don't think a minute would have made a difference, neither for Zoro nor for us."

"That may be," Mihawk admitted, "who knows, maybe it would not have made a difference. But if anything ever happens to any of his crewmembers, I want Roronoa to be spared by those doubts."

"What kind of doubts?"

"That he might have been able to prevent it."


	56. Chapter 52 - Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> as it is already quite late (and I should have gone to bed an hour ago) here's the chapter without any further talk. Thank you for your support and see you friday ;-)
> 
> Good night^^'

Chapter 52 - Flame

-Zoro-

"What the hell is the point of this?"

Suspiciously, he stared back and forth between Jiroushin and Mihawk. He was used to the Shichibukai looking at him condescending – his height did the rest – but the Vice Admiral's grin almost troubled him even more.

"Is that not obvious?" Mihawk said coolly. "Today Jiroushin will be your dance partner."

"What? I thought we wanted to fight."

"If you are able to lead, you may fight with Jiroushin as much as you want, but until then you will dance."

Angry, Zoro folded his arms. That was not what they had agreed on.

"Oh, come on, Zoro." Broadly grinning, Jiroushin went into position. "The faster you understand it, the faster we can fight again."

That was an argument that Zoro could not counter much. Quietly grumbling, he went into position and reached for the soldier's hand.

"Jiroushin is extremely good at being guided, far better than I am," the Shichibukai remarked as he walked around Zoro and made slight corrections to his posture, "and he also enjoyed an extensive dance education. So, he will be able to evaluate your leading qualities well."

Surprised, Zoro looked at the soldier. Only now did he notice. Jiroushin held himself totally different in relation to the Shichibukai, his entire posture reminded Zoro of what Kanan had tried to teach him, but even she had not seemed as elegant and self-confident as Jiroushin.

He leaned in Zoro's arm, his back bend that much that it almost reminded of a hollow-back, his knees bent, and grinned up to him. This position had to be incredibly uncomfortable and Zoro wondered how the other could keep his balance so naturally. Zoro doubted that he had bent his body so much when the Shichibukai had led him. He doubted that he actually could bend that much in the first place.

"Our dear Hawky here is not the only one from some good family, you know? And unlike him, I took the additional private lessons very seriously."

"And you think that is something to brag about?" Mihawk said behind him, unimpressed, before looking at Zoro again.

"You know the steps, Roronoa, so just dance." The Shichibukai stood behind the soldier and seemed to correct his shoulders. "Jiroushin knows the basic steps and the different figures, of course, but not the choreography that we have put together over the past few days. Your task will be to lead him neatly through the choreography, understood?"

Zoro nodded. He had done it countless times with Perona and wondered why the exercise should be different today. But he had agreed to take part in this crap, so he would not back out of it now.

After the first steps, he noticed the difference.

Jiroushin was _light,_ it was as if Zoro did not have to pay attention to anyone. Perona had barely been more confident in dancing than himself and he had not even been able to move Mihawk, even if he had wanted to. He had felt that it would have been easier to move the Rivers Mountain by hand than the Shichibukai.

The soldier, on the other hand, seemed to react before Zoro even showed where he wanted to go, as if Jiroushin were reading his thoughts with the Kenbunshoku Haki. It was easy to guide Jiroushin through the steps, even though Zoro was far from confident, almost as if Jiroushin knew the choreography and did not need Zoro to show him. It was almost as if... They ended the circle one step too early; had Zoro miscounted? The next sequence of steps worked perfectly again and since the Shichibukai said nothing, it could just as well be that Zoro had imagined the misstep.

What he didn't imagine, however, was the soldier's mischievous grin in his arms and somehow it almost scared him and not even the Shichibukai could do that. Something was off.

The straight line of five parallel steps was more curved than he had anticipated, making the transition far too narrow for Zoro and he almost stumbled over his own feet.

The disapproving clicking of Mihawk’s tongue echoed through the room, but otherwise he remained calm. Unusually calm, it didn't suit the older one that he didn't correct Zoro every two seconds. On the other hand, it was not the first time that Zoro was supposed to understand something on his own.

After the next sequence of steps, they would reach the bottom corner of the dance floor and run a strict diagonal back to the middle, but Zoro noticed something.

"You got it?"

Surprised, he looked down at the soldier in his arm, who was still grinning dangerously as he nodded into the corner that Zoro was supposed to reach within the next three steps, yet they were somehow almost at the other end of the dancefloor.

"You know, Zoro, Hawky told you to lead me through your choreography." Although they were not where they were supposed to be, Zoro went to the next element and moved Jiroushin into a standing position. "But no one said I would follow you."

The next moment, Zoro took a step backwards.

"What?" They should have held the standing position for at least a few seconds before they were to go into a spin. Zoro took two more steps back and then turned around his own axis.

"Dancing has very strict but easy rules," Jiroushin explained, looking up to him, "there is a sequence of steps through which the partner follows the leader. The leader determines the path and the partner adapts. The leader is the constant frame in which the partner can bloom."

They no longer danced the steps of the choreography and Zoro did not know where to pick them up again. They were dancing something totally else and if he wanted to continue the choreography where they had interrupted, the sequence of steps would lead them straight into the next wall. But he was far too insecure to simply improvise a new sequence of steps, and he didn't understand Jiroushin's words either.

"Without a leader, the partner cannot follow, that means, if the leader does not lead..." Suddenly they made a harsh turn to the left and Zoro lost his balance. "... the partner must take the lead to help the leader and to finish the dance."

Zoro stumbled and fell to the ground.

"But in a fight, there are no partners, but opponents." Surprised, he looked up to Jiroushin, who perched above him. "Zoro, I just defeated you."

-Mihawk-

"And again."

"Are you sure, Hawky? He's pretty much done.”

"Not my problem. Again."

Roronoa rose clumsily. Sweat ran down his body and he obviously struggled to stand straight.

The task was incredibly simple. He was to defeat Jiroushin within three moves. Considering that Roronoa was superior to Jiroushin by now, one should actually believe that Roronoa should have a walk-over.

Of course, Roronoa had never fought Jiroushin while he used his precious rapier, but Roronoa should be able to defeat him quickly.

But that day and the three previous ones showed Roronoa could not. His ability was to steadily increase over the course of a longer fight until he surpassed his opponent, but he just did not get that time and Jiroushin knew thousands of attacking options and knew how not to fall into patterns.

One... Two... Roronoa was back on the ground.

"We should let it be for the day," Jiroushin remarked, but Mihawk did notice his grin.

"No." Roronoa rose with a heavy breath and scratched his scar. "We only have today and tomorrow. Until then, I have to get it done."

He was not wrong. Jiroushin had only planned to stay for a few days, now he had already spent almost three weeks supporting Roronoa with his training and obviously the homesickness after his wife and his child grew, besides, he could not have as much vacation time as he spent on Kuraigana.

Roronoa developed extremely slowly in the field of leading a fight. It had taken a long time before he had managed to fulfil his task as a leader in dance and when Jiroushin had decided to no longer take on the role of partner, but to compete with Roronoa for the leadership, the youngster had almost immediately fallen back into his old habits.

It was as Jiroushin had said, Roronoa had probably spent almost fifteen years of his life exercising this one fighting style and now Mihawk demanded that he change it within a few weeks. It certainly was not easy.

"I agree with Jiroushin, Roronoa, your attacks are gradually becoming one-sided and predictable. You have three more tries, otherwise we are done for today."

The younger one only nodded, went into combat position and on Mihawk's signal they attacked. Again Roronoa lay on the ground and Mihawk sighed loudly.

"You know," Jiroushin muttered to him, "somehow it's very satisfying that I can still defeat him so easily, even though he's so good now."

It was not surprising to Mihawk that Jiroushin had already noticed Roronoa's actual strength, but at the same time it also made it harder for him that he was about to nip Jiroushin's awakening will to fight in the bud.

He just nodded towards his friend and then walked to Roronoa, who was still kneeling on the ground and wiping the blood from a new wound. He squatted down next to his protégé.

"You still do not understand what the advantage of this fighting style is supposed to be, right?"

Roronoa looked at him from the side.

"I do, I have to control the fight so that I can finish it whenever I want and not unnecessarily..."

"You are just repeating mine and Jiroushin's words, but you do not understand what they mean, do you?"

He leaned forward and took the Kitetsu out of Roronoa's hand. It was an unruly spirit, neither to be broken nor controlled, just wished Mihawk death and misery, and yet Roronoa could lead it well. Mihawk's protégé was awfully contradictory.

"I want to remind you of your fight with Nataku." Mihawk knew the details from the files and from his conversations with Roronoa himself and the commander of the G-6, who had captured the straw hats, and he knew the fighting style of the cold blade of justice only too well. "How many attacks did he need to give you what he thought was a fatal injury? "

Roronoa turned his gaze away, seemed to be thinking.

"A total of seven," he muttered softly. "But actually less; the first three blows would have been enough. I noticed at the latest on the third attack that he was superior, he probably knew it after the first one."

"Of course, you were not even close to be a match to him at that time." 

Roronoa looked at him.

"I got serious after the third attack," he admitted, probably not even aware that this was a confession, "and from then on he got serious as well and after three attacks he had me. It would have been less if it hadn’t been for Luffy."

Mihawk pulled Roronoa to his feet.

"And if he had been _serious_ from the beginning, if he had not underestimated you, the G-6 would probably still be standing today." He could see that Roronoa was thinking, trying to understand what Mihawk wanted to explain. "You have to approach every attack as if the lives of your crewmembers depend on it. Do not wait for the three strokes to happen, because these are the decisive ones."

He pointed with Roronoa's sword at Jiroushin, who slightly surprised raised his rapier.

"That is your opponent. He hardly needs three attacks to defeat you. Nataku used seven because he took too long to become _serious_. So, who will have to withstand the other four attacks? The chef? Nico Robin? The young doctor you like so much? Or your captain? After your opponent takes you down in three moves, he will take care of your crew."

Roronoa looked over to the Vice Admiral and took his sword again. His gaze had changed, there was this fighting spirit with which Roronoa had also looked at Mihawk at that time. Suddenly Mihawk understood why it had taken him so long to see Roronoa's weakness, because when Roronoa faced him, he had never held back, and now he looked at Jiroushin with exactly the same gaze, no, it was not exactly the same look, he seemed almost more intense, as if the destructive power of an entire forest fire was concentrated within a single flame. The control he had instilled in the youngster for the last few months would finally pay off. Mihawk could almost hear the crackling when he saw the fire in the eye of the other.

Grinning Mihawk continued: “So do not wait for your opponent to _get serious._ Attack him from the beginning with the will to defeat him as quickly as possible, because if you do not, he will, and who will protect your crew then?"

The younger one did not respond but went into a fighting position. Jiroushin threw a questioning glance at Mihawk, but also got ready. On Mihawk's signal, both attacked.

Harshly Jiroushin clashed to the ground, Roronoa's blades right at his throat.

"What the hell...?"

Slowly, Mihawk applauded as Roronoa loomed over the shocked Jiroushin. Sometimes his student was really easy to read; if he had only thought of challenging Roronoa’s protector instinct earlier, they could have saved themselves some frustrating hours.

"Congratulations, Roronoa. This is the first time in your life that you have actually led a fight and won. You are now one of the best swordfighters in the world."

Apparently surprised, Roronoa stared at him.

“What?”

Mihawk could not hide a smile as he crossed his arms.

"You have just defeated Cho Jiroushin, the peaceful warrior and defender of the rapier, one of the five best swordfighters in the world."

Sluggish, Jiroushin straightened up in the background.

"Stop enjoying that," he murmured, stretching himself, "that was _one_ victory. How many times have I beaten Zoro before?"

"Well," Mihawk was only too happy to pick that point up, "Roronoa, you said you wanted to defeat me at least a thousand times? Start with Jiroushin. No more than three attacks, understood? Prove that you are superior to him."

"Hey, you were my best man and you are my child's godfather. Could you at least pretend that the whole thing isn't a lot of fun for you?"

Mihawk wanted to reply, but then Roronoa finally spoke.

"This... fighting style… it feels different," he murmured, swallowing heavily. "Do I always have to fight like this?"

This question did not surprise Mihawk. He was well aware that this kind of fighting was less appealing than Roronoa's, at the same time it meant an immense pressure for the fighter. This style required much more concentration and control than Roronoa's previous, playful and frivolous, manner.

"Yes, at least for the time being." The younger one did not respond. "You have to learn to control yourself and the fight at any time and in any situation. Only if you succeed in doing so you can use riskier tactics and have fun again."

Roronoa sighed annoyed.

"How is this supposed to be possible? Jiroushin leaves tomorrow."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, use the time that remains, otherwise you will have a long year ahead of you."

For a moment, the younger one took a deep breath and rubbed his arm over his sweaty forehead. Then he took his sword back into his mouth and set Kitetsu on Jiroushin.

"Are you ready for a thousand defeats?"

The blond went into fighting position.

"You two are insane. What the hell did I get involved in?"

They probably fought all night. Mihawk could only guess, as he had retreated for a few hours of sleep, but when he came back, the two had probably not stopped for a minute.

While the first rays of sunshine broke through the gentle clouds of fog, both swordsmen knelt on the ground, breathing heavily, bloody, and dirty. Mihawk had been, of course, right. Now that Roronoa understood what it meant to lead a fight from the beginning and he was no longer holding back, his qualities were evident. Jiroushin had not been able to defeat him even once, despite his rapier and years of experience.

"Okay," Roronoa panted with a half-grin, dropping to the ground, "ready for another go?"

"Before that, I need a break," Jiroushin grumbled, huffing just as much, and rubbing a new cut on his upper arm.

"You _both_ take a break. Roronoa you have to change when you transform, and you both should eat something. Jiroushin, when will you be picked up?"

By mutual agreement they went back to the castle and Mihawk sent the youngest to the bathroom, while he went to the fireplace room and read the newspaper in his favorite armchair. The Marine ship that was to pick up Jiroushin would arrive in the early evening; so there was still enough time for Roronoa to fight the Vice Admiral in his female form.

"Geez, I'm done." Wearing clean clothes, the blond also came into the fireplace room while rubbing his neck. “I’m just too old for this kind of lifestyle. Training all day is one thing, but then staying up all night... I don't know.”

He fell on a chair near the fire. Mihawk watched him closely. He almost envied the other for being able to fight Roronoa all night.

"Really shocking how quickly Zoro got so good," Jiroushin muttered, looking over to Mihawk. "I mean, just over a year ago he didn't even stand a chance and today... well, the new generation is on the rise, there is no doubt about that."

The other was right. Just over a year ago, Roronoa had ended up on Sasaki, and a few days earlier Nataku had crushingly defeated him. But it had taken him only 11 months of hard training on Kuraigana to match – no, to surpass - Jiroushin.

"You know that I've won many practice fights against Nataku?" Jiroushin remarked thoughtfully, as if he had thought about exactly the same thing.

Mihawk nodded and flipped one page.

"Of course. After all you are the better swordsman."

"Stop making fun of me."

Now he looked up.

"Oh no, Jirou, you know, I do not favor jokes. Your control is far superior to Nataku's and, strategically as well as technically, you outrival him." He looked back at the news of the world again, four pages were dedicated to the new rookies who had probably recently reached the Sabaody Archipelago. “He is a little bit mentally steadier and physically stronger than you are, but he probably will not be able to keep that posture for much longer because of age as little as he trains, but you are not equal to him for just one reason.”

"My will to fight," the blond sighed, before coming over to Mihawk and dropping on Roronoa's sofa. "Even in a real fight I’m not down to kill my opponent, Nataku on the other side..."

"Enough about him, Jiroushin. Yes, I am aware that Roronoa could probably defeat him by now, using all his might in a fierce battle that might even cost him his life. No, he is far from equal to me and no, you do not need to justify yourself for not being a natural warrior. Given your family situation, it may even be better that you have not fallen for the fight as I have."

The other did not respond, so Mihawk continued to read.

"I’m kind of shocked you say something like this. I always thought you didn’t approve it," Jiroushin finally said after several minutes of silence. "I always thought you considered me weak because I don't like fighting as much as you do."

Mihawk did not even look up.

"What nonsense," he coolly remarked, "I never thought you were weak, Jiroushin. Your principles contradict mine and your good-naturedness often demands my patience, but to end a fight before it has even begun probably demands as much courage as to enter a fight, perhaps even more. It is probably easier to break someone's neck than to convince them of another opinion, at least in my own experience."

"You're a terrible person, Hawky."

"Tell me something I am not aware of. I still cannot believe you made me a role model for your child.”

"You could have refused."

"And draw your eternal wrath upon me? Please..."

Jiroushin next to him laughed quietly and even Mihawk could not prevent a grin as he turned another page.

"To be honest," the Vice Admiral continued, "right now, with the training and all... I understand you."

Surprised, Mihawk looked at the other regarding his hands with a dry grin.

"Damn it, this pirate hunter..." He shook his head. "I shouldn’t care that he surpassed me so quickly, but it actually does irk me."

Suddenly he looked over to Mihawk.

"If Zoro grins at you like that, you just want to fight, right? I don't understand how you can withstand this urge to fight him. My fingers are still tingling, and I can't wait to cross blades with him again."

Smiling quietly, Mihawk folded his newspaper.

“So that is why you have stayed here for so long. I was surprised you could leave your wife and child alone for such a long time."

"Yes, mock me even more," Jiroushin laughed, turning onto his belly to have a better look at Mihawk. Once again he looked like a young lad and not like a grown man. “I'm so done and my whole body hurts, but all this time I'm just thinking about how I could optimize my workout. Muscle training, of course, but I also need to improve my stamina if I want to keep up with Zoro. I have to be more determined and also risk hurting my counterpart, but..."

Suddenly the blond was silent.

"What am I actually doing here? I have a family, a steady job. The time of wild fights is long gone. I..." Shaking his head, he got up. "I almost envy you, Hawky."

Jiroushin looked down at him.

"Do you always feel like this, in his presence? Does he awaken this fire within you? Did you spare him because of that back then?"

Slowly, Mihawk got up as well and put the newspaper on the table.

"Be careful, Jiroushin. These flames devour everything that stands in their way."

Then he went to the door, which was just opened by Roronoa, now in his female form, an unnaturally wide grin on his lips.

"Come on, Jiroushin. Let's fight."

Given that Roronoa had been up the whole night – and was basically more of a silent type of person – he just showed very clearly how much he wanted to fight. Yes, it was contagious.

Nodding at each other, they followed the youngster.

Now the difference between Roronoa's two figures became even clearer. While Jiroushin had hardly stood a chance against Roronoa Zoro, he could easily hold his own against Lady Loreen.

Mihawk watched attentively probably the two most important people in his life.

_I don't understand how you can withstand this urge to fight him._

Jiroushin had unintentionally rubbed salt into his wounds. Mihawk wanted to fight, wanted to fight properly. For the last few years, he had almost forgotten his constant hunger, it had been nothing more than a dull throbbing in the back of his mind, but the better Roronoa got, the more Mihawk yearned for him.

But he knew full well that he would regret giving up his patience. Fortunately, he was still master of his decisions, and even though he was craving to put Roronoa down in battle, he wanted to fight him more than once. He did not want to lose him! And for so many reasonable and unreasonable reasons.

Mihawk rose and strode forward. Surprised, the two opponents interrupted their fight and looked at him.

"Hawky, what is it?"

"Roronoa, give me your sword," he ordered coolly, without looking at the younger one.

"What? What for?"

As always as Loreen, Roronoa fought with Josei, which he reluctantly handed him.

"Step aside, not that you get hurt."

"What? What are you talking about?" His little frog grumbled dissatisfied and did not move an inch. With his arms folded, he looked up to Mihawk. "We only have a few hours left before Jiroushin leaves and I haven't beaten him yet."

_"Beaten?"_ Jiroushin repeated with a dry laugh. "Seriously, I'm not that weak."

"You will not defeat him today, Roronoa, and you have fought enough; your movements have become sluggish."

"But..."

"Silence and step aside."

With his arm outstretched, Mihawk underlined his determination.

"Jiroushin, how do you feel? Do you think you are good for another round?"

He looked over to his best friend, who briefly tilted his head and looked at him thoughtfully, then sighed and went into combat position with a slight grin.

“Don’t be too harsh to me, will you?”

"What?" Apparently confused, Roronoa looked back and forth between them. "What does this mean?"

"Today, Roronoa, I will show you how I fight." He saw how those childishly big eyes grew even a little more and Roronoa took a step back. "You always wanted to see me in action, here is your chance."

A grin crept on his lips as Roronoa walked several steps away wordlessly.

"Of course, I will not be able to show you all my skills. Neither this island nor my opponent would survive that..."

"Thank you, too kind," Jiroushin noted grumpily.

"... but maybe it will be a good preparation for you."

"A preparation? For what?" Roronoa asked.

But instead of answering, Mihawk weighed Josei in his hands for a moment; the last time he had fought with it had been long ago, somewhat thirty years probably.

_I am no longer the little boy of that time, Josei, so do not dare to think I would let you be the one in control._

As he exhaled deeply, the heat of the blade disappeared, and Josei bowed to his will. Then Mihawk straightened up, leveled the blade in his right hand to the ground, and awaited Jiroushin with open arms.

"Well, Jirou. Let us give the youngster a show."

"As you wish."

The next moment, the blond attacked him.

Ah, there it was. Mihawk had not been wrong, and a glance from the corner of his eyes revealed that Roronoa had noticed it as well. Jiroushin fought differently!

With ease, Mihawk dodged the other and attacked him at the same time. Jiroushin parried his attack and slipped back a few steps, rushing forward again without shyness. Several times, Mihawk averted the sword and pushed Jiroushin back. But he was unimpressed, jumping over Mihawk and taking advantage of the split second Mihawk needed to turn around to jump to the side and attack him. Only a lunge allowed Mihawk to escape the rapier, but by doing so he had to open his cover and Jiroushin took advantage of this mercilessly.

"Come on, Hawky. Even a novice would see that you’re playing with me. I thought we wanted to give your little frog a show."

Did Jiroushin himself notice it? He fought much more freely than usual, much less thoughtful, as if he really enjoyed it. The past few weeks in which he had been supposed to help and prevent that Roronoa was leading a fight, he had obviously rediscovered his own leading qualities. Could it be that Jiroushin was finally about to understand?

And then they offered Roronoa a show. For Mihawk, it was unusual to be so considerate of his opponent and at the same time forcing him so close to his limits. But he knew Jiroushin well, could see how far Mihawk could go without endangering him, and despite all the fun, Jiroushin could not jeopardize Mihawk's control.

After several hours, Mihawk ended the fight with a clear victory when he realized that Jiroushin was about to spend his last reserves. To his surprise, Roronoa was very calm afterwards, unlike the good-humoured Jiroushin, who complained about his aching bones and sweaty body.

Mihawk himself had to admit that he was in a better mood than before. If Jiroushin could fight like that, he almost enjoyed playing with him and a bit of physical activity was healthy for mind and body.

After showering and putting on clean clothes – and Jiroushin bringing his belongings to the entrance hall – they enjoyed a dinner with Perona before the Vice Admiral had to leave.

Late during the evening, Mihawk, Roronoa, and Perona were still at the fireplace before she finally left for the night's rest.

From the corner of his eye, he observed the younger one. Roronoa was even more silent than usual. Had it been a mistake to show him what was awaiting him?

No, if Roronoa would have allowed himself to be broken by something like that, he would never have made it this far. Still, Mihawk was concerned that he had not lost a single word about the fight.

Mihawk closed the book in his lap and looked at his little frog in a blatant way. In the glow of the bright candlelight, his gaze seemed even more fiery than during a fight, even though he calmly regarded the pages in front of him.

They had been training together for almost a year by now and his heart became heavy knowing that he had barely the same amount of time left with Roronoa. Jiroushin was right, it was cruel, but he preferred this pain. As Roronoa always said so aptly, pain showed that he was still alive.

By now, Mihawk had found peace with his feelings. He would never be able to show them openly, he would never be able to openly admit to Roronoa, but when they sat here in the candlelight after such a fulfilling day, he was happy, so unimaginably happy. He never thought he could feel that way, and if he could feel that happiness for another year, he was willing to pay the price.

"Is something wrong?" Roronoa looked up, his cheeks appeared reddened in the light of the flames. "You keep staring at me."

"You are even more silent than usually, Roronoa, and I am concerned whether it might be because of my fight against Jiroushin," Mihawk cleverly concealed his true motives.

The younger one looked away for a moment, then he closed his book as well and nodded slowly.

"I am thinking about it," he confessed softly, "I wonder why you showed it to me."

Anticipation rose within Mihawk, he got up and walked over to the chessboard on which their current game was laid out. On his wave, Roronoa followed him.

"An excellent question," he praised, looking at the other. "So? Why do you think I did?"

The younger man looked at their chessboard – Mihawk was waiting for Roronoa’s next move for almost two weeks now - and folded his arms.

“I don't really know. I know you want to fight, but you can't fight Jiroushin properly, not the way you like to do it, right? You have to be careful when fighting him." Now Roronoa looked at him. “You could have fought him every day for the past few weeks, but you didn’t. Why now? Why today? Was it just because of Jiroushin? I don't think so, to be honest. Yes, he was much better in the fight against you than against me, as if you had spurred him on. But you didn't do it because of him. No, but because of me."

Curiously, Mihawk listened to his little frog saying his thoughts out loud.

"At first I thought you might want to intimidate me. So that I don't get all high and mighty just because I've defeated Jiroushin now, but that’s not it. You know I'm not impressed by something like that. On the contrary, I still don't feel like I've improved that much and that's why I think... I think you wanted to show me how good I have become because I could see it. Because I could see the difference between the both of you."

Loudly Mihawk exhaled, relieved that Roronoa had not only noticed, but also understood.

"Right, Roronoa. I think you still have not understood how much you have evolved. I believe you still think that you are hardly different from your former self from a year ago, right?"

Roronoa shrugged and nodded slowly.

"Do you think you could defeat Nataku by now?"

Apparently surprised by this question, the younger one turned his gaze away.

"No idea. I couldn't judge him at the time. I knew he was superior to me, but by how much..." Again, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Then let me give you an answer, Roronoa." The other looked at him. "Before your first year on Kuraigana will have passed, you will have surpassed him, too."

"What? But that's only a few days left."

"I know. You have come really far during the last few months, much further than I would have expected at the beginning, but believe me, you have not even passed half the way to be able to take me on. But of course you saw that today."

He watched Roronoa taking a pawn – the bishop - and repositioning it.

"Yes, I have," he muttered quietly, "and you want to tell me that what I saw today is already Homura's limit?"

Mihawk just nodded.

"Why? Do you think I would seek revenge the moment I have surpassed him?"

"Oh, please no," he raised a hand appeasingly. "I know you do not favor revenge and such feelings."

"Why then? Why did you show me today how you fight? What should I prepare for? What does this have to do with Nataku and Jiroushin?" 

"It is very simple, Roronoa. Jiroushin does not really matter, his skills should only show you how far you have come. Nataku, on the other hand, is superior to Jiroushin's mental and physical strength and that is relevant for you."

"Why?"

Now Mihawk grinned and he looked down on his protégé.

"Once you are strong enough to defeat Nataku, you will be ready." Roronoa's eyes grew large. "From then on, Roronoa, I will teach you what the difference is between people like us and them, and if you survive that, if you really get good enough before the end of this year, I will fight you and hopefully not kill you by accident."

“What?”

Rolling his shoulders, Mihawk walked back to his armchair.

"I showed you today how I can fight so that you can prepare for it. Because if you thought the past year was exhausting, you have no idea what to expect. As soon as you are strong enough, I will mold you into a true master of the sword, as the world has yet to see. You will face death more often in the upcoming months than in your whole life. I will show you why the gap between the other swordfighters and me is so unbridgeable. I will show you how to push the boundaries of what is humanly possible, because only in this way can you become equal to me."

"But..." Roronoa followed him and looked at him almost hesitantly. "Not that I want to complain or anything like that, but you always said that you would definitely not fight me until I was strong enough to defeat you. Because you could kill me by accident if you lose control, you just said that yourself. And now you want to do it? Why?"

Mihawk leaned forward.

"Because I get impatient. I thought five years was a manageable, realistic period, but after today... Roronoa, you will not defeat me until the end of your stay here, but if you leave Kuraigana there will be no swordfighter next to me, who could still defeat you, I promise."

He watched Roronoa's reaction as he looked thoughtfully from Mihawk to the chessboard, then to the fire, to the book next to him, his hands, and then back to Mihawk. He had expected something different, mischievous liveliness or unimpressed indifference, but once again Roronoa did not respond to his expectations.

"I want to defeat you," he finally said.

"If you leave this island in a year's time, you will only lack one trait to defeat me, but since I cannot teach you this one trait, you will have to obtain it yourself, and after that you will come back and defeat me."

"All right." Roronoa got up. "Then let's start tomorrow with the ultimate training."

Surprised, he looked up.

"Roronoa, I just said..."

"I heard you. But you're not the only one getting impatient. I mastered Haki, I became my own monster, learned to lead a fight, and perfected my body. I'm ready. I am ready to leave my human boundaries behind and defeat you."

The heat within Mihawk was almost unbearable. Again, Roronoa took this one step more.

He rose with a grin, but then he became master of his feelings.

"Then off to bed with you, Roronoa. You will need sleep, who knows when you will get another chance."


	57. Chapter 53 - Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> today was a pretty productive day for me, so productive (and busy^^') that I almost forgot to post the new chapter, but here I am and time is flying by, so I'll be really quick here ;-)   
> Thank you all for your support and see you next monday

Chapter 53 - Home

-Mihawk-

A distressing cry echoed through the cold castle.

"Please close the door," he grumbled as the ghost girl came in.

She quickly followed his request, not succeeding in shutting out the whining completely. She looked terrible; her swollen eyes testified to the tears she had wept.

"Can't you do something?" She whispered. "I can't stand it anymore."

"He is in pain," he replied coolly. “I have no medical education, there is nothing I could do.”

"But... but what if he dies?"

"Then he was not ready."

The conversation was over. He opened his newspaper and lowered his concentration on the printed lines while Perona started the fire in the fireplace.

They had returned the previous night. Roronoa had endured a month with him on the old mountains in the North of the island, now Mihawk had brought him back, because the wounds needed reasonable care and Roronoa's body needed a break.

His _ultimate_ training - as Roronoa had so aptly called it - was far from over, but if Mihawk had not interrupted, Roronoa would probably really die and he could not allow that.

Of course, he had expected it to be difficult for the youngster, but what they both had probably underestimated was Lady Loreen's influence. Roronoa may have been able to endure Mihawk's challenges in his true form, but as Lady Loreen he was far from doing so, Roronoa barely managed to maintain his true figure for 40 hours, he had to transform sooner or later.

As Loreen, Roronoa could hardly keep up with his normal training, it had to be expected that he would not be able to withstand these extraordinary demands in this state. Nevertheless, he had not wanted to stop, and his iron ambition had now put him in this situation. Mihawk had been willing to take into account Roronoa's curse, but Roronoa himself had not been willing to do so, and so he had overdone it.

For the first time, Roronoa seemed to have really reached his mental and physical limits – not that it surprised Mihawk – and, as might have been expected, it had almost killed him.

But even worse, Roronoa had sent him away. Although Mihawk would have preferred to take care of him, Roronoa had almost ordered him to leave his room with a painful voice. That was why he was sitting here and pretended that the crying and groaning would not bother him at all.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to let Roronoa take this step so early. On the other hand, he had been more than ready to go on. It was, as Roronoa said, he had mastered all the prerequisites and was, especially considering his young age, an outstanding swordsman. Already now, there were few people in the world, whether swordfighters or not, whom Roronoa had to be wary of. But given which crew he was a member of, probably still enough.

For this reason, it was necessary that Roronoa was one of the handful of people who left their human limits behind, only this way could he really reach the top and finally defeat Mihawk. Since the great war, Mihawk was certain that the Straw Hat would also surpass these limits, especially since the Dark King wanted to teach him, if Roronoa wanted to continue to protect him, he had to become just as strong.

But he still wondered what Rayleigh had in mind; two years were very little time for both Roronoa and the Straw Hat to not only learn the basics like Haki, but also to grow beyond their own limits.

Roronoa had progressed superbly in the past year, significantly better than Mihawk had expected, but still, the one year they had left was hardly enough time, even for someone like Roronoa. How could that old man expect that the Straw Hat – who did not seem nearly as disciplined and goal-oriented as Mihawk's protégé – would become strong enough in two years to be able to oppose someone like Sakazuki?

With a sigh, Mihawk closed his newspaper. Such questions would not take him any further and the skill of the Straw Hat occupied him only to the extent that Roronoa was concerned. He hoped that Rayleigh would train this boy well enough, so that for once he would be able to protect Roronoa and not just the other way around.

Shanks had prophesied that he would be surpassed by the Straw Hat, just as Mihawk knew that Roronoa would surpass him one day. So he had no choice but to believe that his former favorite rival would be right. Not because Mihawk was worried about the annoying rubber boy, but he wanted to prevent Roronoa from always having to take the fall as soon as the Straw Hat would seek out another opponent he could not withstand.

But doubts remained whether Shank's prophecy could be realized within just two years. He admitted that Straw Hat was not bad – at least not entirely incompetent, given what Mihawk had seen during the great battle – but the only thing superhuman about him had been his talent to be able to find allies and friends even in such a situation. His strength however had been far from exceptional, and Mihawk did not want to rely on this boy to become the captain in two years' time, whom Shanks saw in him and Mihawk needed for his protégé.

But that was probably beyond his control, whether Rayleigh had deliberately chosen this period or not, did not matter to him. He had promised to mold Roronoa into a true master of the sword, and by now he had probably succeeded. Now he would help Roronoa become exceptional.

But for this Roronoa had to recover enough to be able to stand on his own two feet again. When Mihawk got up, he noticed that Perona was still sitting on her armchair near the fire, a book about flowers in her lap. Surprised, she looked up when she noticed his gaze.

"Uhm, I think it's too early for breakfast, isn't it?"

Why did she think he was concerned about something trivial as that?

“I am not hungry and Roronoa will probably not be able to eat anything, so you do not have to take our needs into account for today.”

"But... but wait." She followed him to the door. "Zoro may not be able to, but at least you have to eat something. For over a month you've been hiding up there in the mountains, are you eating anything at all?"

Astonished, he looked down at her. She was actually worried, what a naive child.

"Perona, Roronoa and I are pirates. It is true that I have never lived on the street, but please do not underestimate my qualities to survive even in hostile circumstances. A few months away from civilization will certainly not kill me."

As soon as he opened the door, his presumption was confirmed, the painful cries had fallen silent. Quiet steps led him into Roronoa's room. Knowing that the other did not want him there, he stepped in.

Smiling, he realized that his little frog had indeed turned back into his male form. Mihawk did not know whether that should impress him. Of course, it was wise of Roronoa to transform himself into this form as soon as he could, as his self-healing powers and pain limit were much better in this body than in his other form. Nevertheless, Mihawk knew from numerous observations that the transformation from Lady Loreen to Roronoa Zoro could be from very unpleasant to even painful for his little frog.

In a situation in which Roronoa could hardly think straight because of the unimaginable agony, exposing himself to even further pain seemed almost like madness. Satisfied, Mihawk settled in his chair. So Roronoa was really about to leave his physical limits behind.

For a long time, he regarded the child in bed in front of him. But it was probably wrong to still call Roronoa a child. He had indeed changed a lot since their first encounter, not only externally, not only physically. Roronoa had not been a child for a long time, probably longer than Mihawk knew him, but as long as Mihawk pretended that Roronoa was still a child, it was easier for him.

Because he too had changed, he had become soft, emotional, but that seemed to be just an annoying aftertaste and not what really occupied him. The world had bored him, his life had drained him, nothing had really interested him and even less had been meaningful for him.

Now, however, he was no longer this tired, desolate Shichibukai. In just one year, Mihawk had changed, Roronoa had changed him. He had accepted his feelings for the youngster and their effects on him long ago. He knew that he was no longer the man who could watch the world's events and fell asleep unbothered. Because by now he had something _\- someone_ \- that he cared for.

Of course, Roronoa would never be allowed to hear about these feelings. Purely for selfish reasons, of course. For even regarding Roronoa, Mihawk did not act selflessly, of course not. Mihawk had by now realized that his happiness and satisfaction depended on Roronoa. He was also aware that this dependence did not necessarily speak for him, but it was not like he cared about that. Thanks to Roronoa, Mihawk had found a meaning in life again, the world had lost its monotony, and Mihawk wanted it to remain this colorful.

For decades, Mihawk had not known how fulfilling life could be, but now that he had come to know these powerful feelings, now he did not want to lose them again, and since his feelings, his happiness, depended on Roronoa, he simply did not want to lose him. It was pure selfishness, he wanted Roronoa to be happy so that he too could be happy, no matter what that happiness would cost.

But if Roronoa knew his selfish feelings, he would probably turn away from Mihawk, or worse, pity him, and Mihawk did not want that. He did not want Roronoa to walk on eggshells around him.

_You're the only one who doesn't treat me any different._

Mihawk buried his face in one hand.

_Even this conversation here, I don't think anyone else would talk to me like that._

It was Roronoa who just did not understand. Despite all these months, he still did not understand that it was not Mihawk, not Roronoa's crew, or anyone else.

_Did you even make a decision? Did you even choose anything here? Did you choose me over your crew?_

_So why, Roronoa? Why did you go with me when it was not for becoming a man again?_

Mihawk knew why these questions had been so important to him back then, because he had developed feelings for Roronoa and had not wanted to dare to hope. Because he knew that Roronoa would hurt him sooner or later.

But Roronoa did not understand.

_Because you were right. Because I finally understand it. And because you see me._

No, it was not that Mihawk was the one man on this earth who was able to see Roronoa for the person he truly was, not at all. It was the other way around. For whatever godforsaken reason, Roronoa had chosen Mihawk among all the people in his life to show him his true self. Mihawk could see Roronoa because Roronoa put off his mask only in front of him, and this knowledge filled Mihawk with an irrational pride, with a secret happiness.

But at the same time, this also meant that once Roronoa knew how Mihawk really felt, he probably would not take off his mask anymore. For Roronoa always took everybody into consideration, either because he wanted to protect them or to protect himself, only towards Mihawk he was honest despite the consequences.

Perhaps because Mihawk himself was strong, because Roronoa did not have to protect him, perhaps also because Mihawk could not control himself very well around Roronoa and treated him more honest than most. Perhaps also because Mihawk had demanded Roronoa's trust.

In the end, he did not know; but for whatever reason, he did not want to jeopardize this seemingly unique relationship, which only he was allowed to maintain with Roronoa, especially not by something as ridiculous as his own feelings.

A cough made Mihawk listen up. He had slipped down in his chair, obviously had fallen asleep, although he had not been very tired.

“Hey…”

He opened his eyes and looked over at Roronoa, who was breathing heavily and leaned against the head of his bed, his unsevered eye only halfway open and looking at him.

"Roronoa, you are awake?"

"Mhm... captain obvious..." His eyelids fluttered, he seemed to be in significant pain – in addition, Mihawk had given him an anti-inflammatory sleeping pill, contrary to his orders, which certainly did not make it easier to stay awake – and yet Roronoa no longer seemed to want to give in to sleep.

"You should rest. You are severely wounded. How long have you been awake?"

A faint grin slid over the pale features of his little frog, who nodded towards the window.

"For some… time..."

Mihawk followed his gaze and realized that reddish fog announced the end of a long day. Knowing that he had visited Roronoa's room during the early hours of the morning, he must have slept through the whole day.

"Seemed pretty tired," Roronoa remarked with a hoarse whisper as if he had guessed Mihawk's thoughts.

"My apologies," Mihawk muttered, rubbing his face, dismissing the thoughts he had been dealing with until now. "It does not speak for me that I just fall asleep during my watch."

Roronoa shook his head slightly. "No... maybe it was better... was pretty mad when I saw you..."

"Because I was here against your words?"

The younger one nodded.

"Have tried... to wake you up... but..." He shrugged his shoulders. Obviously, his voice was barely loud enough to be confused with a whisper, and of course he could not move much.

"And now you are not mad anymore?"

Again, Roronoa slightly shrugged his shoulders.

"Is' okay."

"You should sleep, Roronoa. The sooner you are feeling better, the sooner we can continue training."

"Can't," Roronoa said with a raised eyebrow. "will change soon."

"All the more reason to gather as much strength as possible beforehand. If you want, I will get you some medicine and maybe we should..."

"Mihawk... wait."

He had already gotten up to rush over to the small container with bandage material and the like, but Roronoa's weak objection made him pause as the other tried to sit up.

"Don't move, Roronoa." He rushed back to bed.

The younger had fainted in his female form on the mountain less than a day ago, succumbing to his injuries, and due to the high blood loss, Mihawk had been worried whether he would make it. He had lost more blood than any human being should, and yet he seemed to be doing much better – after all, he was alive and, beyond that, awake and talking.

"I... I have to tell you something," Roronoa whispered.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me later. You are feverish.”

He reached for the little bowl of water and cloth, which undoubtedly was from Perona, and cleaned sweat from the younger man’s forehead, cheeks, and neck.

"No... listen." Roronoa actually leaned forward and winced in pain.

Mihawk let go of the cloth and held Roronoa upright by the shoulder, knowing that he could only force this stubborn fool to lay down by actually pushing him down.

"I know what you want to say, Roronoa," he said calmly, looking at the other seriously. "It annoys you that you are now back in bed instead of training. You do not like waking up to me at your bedside like watching a sick or even moribund person. You hate being helpless, I know."

For a second, the younger one did not react at all, but simply met his gaze, as if he were highly concentrated on not simply collapsing. Then a quiet, throaty laugh rang out from the younger man's throat, obviously causing him pain, because directly he gasped for air.

"That's right," he whispered, closing his eye for a moment too long, "but I didn't mean that... I want to say..."

"Roronoa, sleep now. Tomorrow morning..."

"No!"

Mihawk was shocked when Roronoa grabbed him by the arm with his eyes wide open.

"No..." Breathing heavily due to the strain, Roronoa let himself sink back and closed his scarred eye again, while the other heavily stared at him. "Tomorrow... I won't ... tell you..."

What a strange statement, but even more shocking to Mihawk was that Roronoa could still move, he was still not done after all that had happened, at least in this form. A few months ago, Mihawk had refused to train Roronoa because of his eye-injury, and now he was already...

"Why? Why would you not tell me tomorrow anymore?" Mihawk asked, instead of pondering whether he had urged Roronoa to take a forced break du to his own feeling of guilt, or whether Roronoa had simply developed incredibly quickly.

"Because of... the fever..." A crooked grin crept over Roronoa’s face. "Tomorrow... I will be fine..."

"Roronoa, no matter what it is. If you would not tell me with a clear mind, you should not tell me in a feverish state and under the influence of medication."

"But... otherwise I will... never say."

Although Mihawk knew it could not be related to the subject he had worried about until a few minutes ago, he could not prevent his heart from beating faster. It was impossible, and yet he waited anxiously for Roronoa's next words, as if he hoped that it was exactly what it was not allowed to be.

"Thank you."

Relief spread through him, relief, and a deep agony.

"You know... I have been thinking a lot… during the last days and… I realized that you had no... no reason to help me and... and yet you did." Heavily Roronoa panted and closed his unharmed eye. "When you said back then... that this room here would be mine..." He laughed quietly, obviously profoundly exhausted. "Had no idea what you meant... thought it was just some stupid saying. I... I never had... my own room... a home..."

Mihawk watched the younger man slowly slide down on his pillow, barely conscious.

"Always... always wondered how it had been for... the others. Nami, Usopp, even ... stupid cook... but had no idea... Tze... But now... it does hurt... to leave... some day... childish, right? But... like being here... is like... like my home..."

He did not respond when Roronoa slipped into a fevered sleep and muttered incomprehensible words on his pillow.

Mihawk was happy, incredibly happy, but it also hurt, unspeakably hurt.

He would never have dreamed that Roronoa would ever say something like this – as Roronoa had said, the fever was probably responsible for it – but it made him happy.

Home – a place to come home to - was a promise. Roronoa would return, at least to this island, at least to Kuraigana, at some point.

Slowly, Mihawk rose and began to pace through the room, he had offered Roronoa a year ago as his, a hand pressed over his trembling lips.

_It does hurt... to leave..._

He did not want to read too much between the lines, but maybe – just maybe – Roronoa meant not only the island, maybe he also meant Mihawk. Perhaps Roronoa also regarded the inevitable farewell with nostalgia.

Mihawk was certainly not a good person, for this thought gave him hope that he should not have.

At the same time, these words also gave him the assurance that he was never allowed to admit his feelings openly, because this was the home to which Roronoa could return. Mihawk was the one person Roronoa could truly open up to and all this would break if Mihawk revealed his feelings to him.

"You are pathetic, Mihawk. When did you become such a coward?" He whispered to himself, looking from the end of the room to the oversized bed. "Soon he will not need you anymore and then what? You will lose him even though he was never yours."

"And stop!"

"Oh Jirou, just a little bit..."

_"_ I said _No_."

"Jiroushin, he's right. That was barely two minutes..."

"And I said _stop._ So, to make this clear, I'm the referee here, my word is law, otherwise I'll leave, but don't come back later bawling."

"Oh, Jirou, get off your high horse and..."

"Go into your corner and cool your mind, Hawky. Otherwise, you’ll be done for today."

Gruff, Mihawk rolled his eyes and turned away with a condescending hand movement as he walked over to the pillar on which he had placed his shirt and vest. Next to it stood a small barrel with water.

Jiroushin was extremely annoying, and Mihawk wondered what the hell had gotten into him to let this useless pacifist visit the island. He knew that the coward would never let him fight for good, a weakling like him could not understand what a real fight was.

Roronoa was not as frail as when he had arrived at Kuraigana, and what would happen if Mihawk accidentally hit him more firmly? Roronoa would be able to tolerate one or two broken ribs. Besides, this uneducated brat always wanted Mihawk to fight him and to get _serious,_ so he would also be able to bear the consequences.

It was not like Mihawk would kill him directly, he was just putting a little more force into his punches, just holding back a little less. After all, they did not even fight with swords, how bad could the injuries he would inflict on Roronoa be?

"Don't you think you're overstressing?" He heard the youngster mutter behind him. "He didn't seem any different to me."

Mihawk quietly agreed with his protégé. Of course, Jiroushin exaggerated excessively in his concern, as if Mihawk would just end up killing Roronoa, as if his mental state were so weak that he could not even control his attacks.

"Believe me, Zoro, that's it. Though I confess that he is losing his temper really quickly if it comes to you. Scary."

Mihawk was on the verge of turning around when his best friend called him out directly: "The bucket is not a decoration! Take a dive, Shichibukai!"

"You are pretty bossy today, you know that?" Mihawk growled but did what Jiroushin ordered and shoved his head into the cold water.

He deeply exhaled under water as he opened his eyes. It did not help much, and yet his mind cleared a little. It was not elegant to cool down in this way, but Jiroushin was right, Mihawk had just been about to lose control and seriously attack Roronoa. The youngster was probably able to survive an attack by now, but Mihawk did not want to give it a try and that was exactly why Jiroushin was present.

Three weeks ago, Mihawk and Roronoa had completed their _ultimate_ training and had returned to the castle. Afterwards they had done nothing at all for a total of eight days and for the first time Roronoa had not complained about resting. Those days had been very pleasant, and they had used the free time to sleep half the day and laze around the other half, something they both seemed to be very good at.

At Perona's request, they had also planted several trees, which had been indeed a lot of fun for Mihawk – even if he would not admit it openly – and for a few days they had lived in consensual peace.

After that, Eizen's letter had come and peace was gone. As if the letter had reminded Roronoa that he was about to leave, he had insisted again that they would continue their training, and as if the letter had reminded Mihawk that Roronoa would soon leave, his mood had abruptly fallen.

Eizen had invited Lady Loreen to an important meeting in Mary Joa the upcoming week, exactly one week before Roronoa had wanted to travel to the Sabaody Archipelago one way or another, because the two years were almost over.

So Roronoa had wanted to train again – did this boy never get tired of it? - but the one thing Roronoa still had to learn, Mihawk could not teach him. It was the one thing Roronoa had to teach himself.

But since Roronoa learned more quickly in a direct fight, this discussion had come up shortly after the letter had arrived. Roronoa’s arguments were also well-founded. Within two years Roronoa had become a serious opponent, Mihawk was of course still superior to him, but the gap between them was now moderate – finally moderate.

In recent months, Roronoa had mastered every challenge Mihawk had presented him with. Weeks in complete darkness; sleep deprivation, which almost resembled torture; pain that even Roronoa had not experienced before. Mihawk had driven Roronoa into madness, and Roronoa had survived, and was truly a master of the art of the sword and, beyond that, a true warrior.

After some back and forth, Mihawk had realized that they could really make the most use of the little time left by a direct confrontation, but since he still did not want to endanger Roronoa, he had considered a trick to prevent him from losing his control and to prevent Roronoa from being seriously injured or even mutilated three weeks before his fateful reunion with his crew.

This trick was Jiroushin. No one knew Mihawk as well as his best friend, and no one had seen him lose control as many times as Jiroushin. His former vice captain knew when Mihawk began to really fight mostly before Mihawk even noticed it, and he was one of the few, perhaps even the only one, Mihawk would listen to in such a situation. For no matter how determined and bossy Jiroushin could sound, neither his voice nor his posture showed aggression or combativeness.

Although Mihawk did not like it, Jiroushin was currently his only way to fight Roronoa, even without swords. On the other hand, Jiroushin was now the weakest one between the three of them and Mihawk did not want to risk something accidentally happening to him just because he was playing referee between Mihawk and Roronoa.

Mihawk also quietly admitted that he liked to see his best friend again as regularly as he had during the last two years. Since Mihawk had disbanded the crew and Jiroushin had become a respectable Marine, they had perhaps met once every six months when Mihawk had visited Sasaki quarterly and Jiroushin had also been present by chance, but even then they had usually little more time than for a brief chat.

Since Roronoa had stepped into Mihawk’s life and Jjiroushin had helped teaching the youngster, they had seen each other almost more often than when they had still been employed by the Marine together. Mihawk and Roronoa had even interrupted their training a few months ago to attend Jiroushin's baptism, not his baptism, of course, but that of his brat, and Mihawk was now officially a godfather, another title of which he should be proud according to society.

To his surprise, Jiroushin had seemed to have almost waited for his call. Only a few days later the Vice Admiral had already arrived and now he was overseeing their small battles and stopped Mihawk from accidentally killing his little frog.

Sighing, he lifted his head out of the barrel.

"Oh, and I thought he was ending up drowning."

"Hawky can hold his breath for a very long time. Great when a devil fruit user is drowning. Totally annoying when the ship goes down and you think you've lost the captain because he comes up with the idea of attacking the enemy ship from the keel."

"Are you still upset about that?" Mihawk rubbed his face and hair with a towel, laid it aside, and joined the other two. "That was years ago. Besides, you did not actually think that I would step down that easily. "

He brushed back the wet strands of hair that were now hanging in his face. He could feel Roronoa's sharp gaze. The youngster had crossed his arms and tapped a steady rhythm against his upper arm with the index finger of his left hand. But it was his facial expression that almost made Mihawk blush; he thought he knew Roronoa's evil grin, but he had never seen the youngster look at him the way he did right now.

"What are you staring at, Roronoa?" He asked and brushed through his hair again.

"Oh nothing." But that dirty grin remained. "It just doesn't fit the all high and mighty Hawk Eyes to cool down in a damn bucket of water. Somehow pathetic."

"Hey," Jiroushin growled, raising a finger, "I don't condone such a tone here. Why are you suddenly so disrespectful towards Mihawk?"

Mihawk waved it off with a smile.

"Calm down, Jirou, he is always that disrespectful towards me. Have you not noticed that by now?"

"Only if I am right," replied the youngest one. "But let's be honest, you can't call this a fight if Jiroushin interrupts us every two minutes."

"You're aware that we're only doing this for you, because Hawky would kill you otherwise?"

"Oh, come on!" Roronoa threw both hands in the air and approached Mihawk directly. "Mihawk, come on, this isn't fun. You know how strong I am now. In a few months I will challenge you one way or the other, so why this dry practice?"

Now it was Mihawk who folded his arms and smiled down at his little frog.

"Roronoa, you should not be this cocky. Jiroushin is right. Indeed, you have become a skillful fighter, I admit that, but you have not experienced me when I..."

"And that's why we should do it!"

Mihawk clicked his tongue in disapproval as Roronoa interrupted him and slightly hit his shoulder.

“We both know that I've never really seen you fight, and it wouldn't have mattered before because I wouldn't have noticed how good you really are. But things have changed, I'm good, not just good, _really, really good._ I want to see how strong you are, I just want to see once how strong you are, so..."

"Roronoa." He raised both hands appeasingly. "As always, I welcome your enthusiasm, but..."

"Hawky is right, Zoro. If he kills you by mistake, I will have to listen to it until the end of his life."

"The end of _my_ life? You assume that I will die before you?"

"You feed on scrambled eggs and wine, whiskey on tough days. You either don’t sleep for days or 20 hours at once. You cross the open sea on a lifeboat and get into a fight with anyone who crosses your path. You're a walking life risk, Hawky, accept it.”

"Could we please stay on the subject?" Roronoa was still standing right in front of Mihawk and looked up to him seriously. "You also want to know how much is really still between us, right? I promise you, I'm not going to die."

He shook his head slightly.

"Even if, I could seriously hurt you, Roronoa. No matter what, the risk remains..."

"which I’m willing to take... Please."

Helplessly, Mihawk looked down to his little frog. Rarely did Roronoa actually ask him for something, and Mihawk realized that it was hard for him to refuse, which of course did not surprise him, after all, he wanted this fight too and Roronoa had wrapped him around his finger a long time ago.

"What do you think, Jirou?" He muttered, without interrupting eye contact with Roronoa. "Do you think you could intervene quickly enough before I would seriously wound him?"

The blond sighed loudly.

"Oh, seriously? We both know that I would never be fast enough to stop one of your attacks. The question is if you will listen to me when I tell you to stop."

"And?" Now Mihawk looked up. "Do you think I would listen to you?"

It was a question he could not answer himself. Rather, he could only guess, and his guess would probably be 'no'. Taking a deep breath his best friend started pacing.

"You're both absolutely insane! Crazy! Two of a kind." He rubbed his face. "If this goes south, it's my fault because I haven't stopped you addicts."

"I challenge him, Jiroushin, so it's my fault if I end up dead," Roronoa directly contradicted, "it's my decision."

"Yes, of course. But we all know that I cannot stop Mihawk in doubt. To hell, what happens when the island blows up? Zoro, you have no idea what you're doing here! It's one thing to get him to reason before he turns around, but when he crosses the line…, you haven't seen anything like it.”

Mihawk felt a little bit patronized when Jiroushin spoke of him, but he had given up his vanity at least since the barrel.

"I know," Roronoa muttered, turning to Jiroushin, "I have no idea what it means if Mihawk gets serious. But..." Suddenly the younger one looked at him again. "... if I want to defeat you, I need to know how far I still have to go, right?"

And that look was enough for Mihawk. He felt it in his limbs, in his blood, felt the fire electrify every single nerve in his body.

“Hawky?”

"Let's go to the mountain," he decided, and walked away. "Jiroushin, just have your rapier close to take me out in case of doubt. Roronoa, fight from the first second with everything you have and more. Release all your accumulated Haki, otherwise the last two years have been nothing more than a waste of time."


	58. Chapter 54 - Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody,
> 
> hope you're doing well and I have to say, we made it far, right? ;-)  
> Only five chapters left, but I hope that you will enjoy it until the end ^^
> 
> Have a great week and thank you all for your support!
> 
> See you friday ;-)

Chapter 54 - Honesty

-Mihawk-

"What did I say? What did I say?! Crazy, both of you!”

Smiling, Mihawk continued his path alongside his best friend.

"Shut up, Jiroushin."

"He is not wrong, Roronoa. This probably was our last training session. Even you will undoubtedly need the next two weeks to recover, especially as Lady Loreen, and you will certainly be annoyed about it again by tomorrow. Was it really worth it, Roronoa?"

The younger one laughed quietly next to his ear.

"Hell yeah."

Then he coughed and Mihawk felt a warm liquid dropping down his shoulder.

"Rest for now, Roronoa, we are almost home."

His little frog muttered something incomprehensible and leaned his head against Mihawk's neck.

He could feel the Vice Admiral's gaze but decided to ignore it as he carried Roronoa on his back towards the castle, the little smile never quite gone. The fight had lasted only a few breaths longer than their previous ones, in which Jiroushin had stopped him every time before Mihawk had gotten serious, but the difference had probably been immense.

Sighing, Mihawk noticed with a glance that the foggy horizon now offered one crooked mountain less than the previous day; it would take time for him to get used to this view. It had gone well, after all the rest of the island was still unharmed, after all Roronoa was still alive. But he did owe it to Jiroushin, who had managed to stop Mihawk.

Mihawk still felt it in his bones, the fight had been far too short for him, but it had been a fight, like a small foretaste of what was about to come.

Of course, they had fought without swords, to Roronoa's luck, yet Mihawk had broken him several ribs and that he was coughing blood was not exactly reassuring either. In addition, Roronoa's right forearm was also broken – he had actually tried to block a direct blow from Mihawk instead of dodging as if he had completely forgotten the last two years – and, moreover, part of his well-healed scar had reopened. Mihawk had not even been aware that something like that was possible, but the impact with his hardened hand had done far more damage than he had expected.

However, this did not surprise him. Mihawk knew that in his true fighting state he in general did not think that he would actually hurt his opponent – badly – and every time he was wrong in the end.

"Jiroushin, would you mind checking on Perona and prepare something for dinner with her?" He suggested as they walked up the stairs at the castle. “I will put Roronoa to bed and take care of his injuries.”

"Told you I only need to sleep," the younger one mumbled against his neck, half asleep.

"Of course, Roronoa, and we have already seen how well that works."

The Vice Admiral grinned mischievously at him with his eyebrows raised, his gaze saying a lot and Mihawk was grateful that at least he did not say it out loud. He decided not to let Jiroushin tarnish his liberated mood and nodded to him only briefly as they went their separate ways.

This would probably be the last time he would carry an injured Roronoa to his room; something he had done so many times and which filled him with a very peculiar form of peace.

"Say," muttered Roronoa, who was surprisingly still not asleep, "how was it for you?"

For a second, he paused, and a gentle warmth rose within him. Even now Roronoa thought of him and whether he had enjoyed their little fight. He could hardly remember anybody asking him that after a fight – well, that may also be because most of his opponents did not survive one – and it touched him.

"Clearly too short," he honestly admitted, continuing his way, "I wish you were stronger."

Roronoa laughed quietly before harshly gasping for air.

"Soon," he whispered, "give me a little bit more time. Soon we can really fight with each other."

Goosebumps crept over Mihawk's body, but he did not respond, feeling that his voice would betray him. Silently, he opened the door in front of him.

"What?" Roronoa chuckled. "Did I finally make you shut up?"

Grinning, he entered the room of his little frog.

"Oh, please Roronoa, as if this were the first time."

Carefully, he carried Roronoa into the bathroom and dropped him down on the floor of the shower.

"Just let me go to bed," the younger man grumbled as he leaned against the shower wall and Mihawk took off his tattered shirt.

"No, you know by now how this goes, first we remove the dirt and care for your wounds, afterwards you can sleep."

Then he took off Roronoa's shoes and socks.

"You don't have to do that," his disciple said tired, "I can manage on my own."

"You cannot, Roronoa, you can barely stand, let alone walk."

"Fine, get Perona, she can do it."

Surprised he paused undressing Roronoa.

"Does it bother you that I disrobe you?"

"Tze, I don't care, I'm not some uptight snob." A dirty grin crept over Roronoa's lips, but immediately he got serious again. "But you don't like it."

Once again, the younger one stunned him.

"What has gotten into you, Roronoa?" He muttered, continuing his work, unable to prevent from blushing. "I am not used to that kind consideration and kindness from you. You should be careful with it, otherwise I will get used to it."

By now Roronoa was sitting in underpants in front of him, so Mihawk got up and went over to the sink to get a clean cloth.

"But it's true," Roronoa muttered, "you're always so prudish and always try to avoid stuff like that."

Nodding, he squatted in front of his little frog again and began to clean the by now less bleeding injuries of dirt and sweat with the damp and warm cloth. He noticed that Roronoa's right wrist was also clearly swollen and that the youngster had still suffered some other injuries from their fight, which he had not noticed at first, and yet the younger one did not wince once or even withdrew his face.

"That may be the case. However, I have caused these wounds, so I can also care for them. I am responsible for them."

"You and your responsibility," Roronoa groaned, closing his unharmed eye and leaning his head back. "It was my decision to challenge you."

"And you and your decisions,” he replied with a grin.

From then on, the other stayed silent while Mihawk continued his work in consensual peace. After cleaning and treating Roronoa's injuries, he carried the youngster to his bed. He walked over to the closet and looked for something loose that Roronoa could put on without much movement.

"I hope that the broken bones heal quickly. I do not want to send you back to your crew without being able to defend yourself properly."

"And you think a few scratches would stop me from doing so?"

In the absence of a better alternative, Mihawk opted for a fluffy grey bathrobe that Roronoa probably had never worn before, which still looked more reasonable than the ugly green coat Roronoa would walk around in at choice.

"I would love you to be in perfect condition when you see your friends again after two long years."

Roronoa remained silent and reluctantly let Mihawk help him in the bathrobe. After that, Mihawk covered him up, like a small child after a long day.

"You should sleep now to heal your wounds."

"You don't give me any medication?"

"Oh, I would like that, but you seem to be doing better than I feared and I am just too satisfied for the moment to start another argument."

He could see that this statement surprised Roronoa. Shaking his head, the younger man leaned back into the pillows.

"You will keep a watch until I fall asleep?" He muttered with his eyes closed.

"Not if it bothers you that much."

Roronoa shrugged.

"It's probably going to be the last time, right? Then I don't care."

"The last time?"

After cleaning up, Mihawk settled on his chair. He was impressed by how quickly Roronoa was already recovering. When Jiroushin had interrupted their fight, Roronoa had been laying on the ground motionless. It had taken a few soft pats against the cheeks to get him back into consciousness.

On the way back from the former mountain, Roronoa had repeatedly wavered between delirium and clear moments, apparently due to a concussion. However, the bathroom’s coolness and the pleasant water had probably helped him to come back to his senses. Luckily, he had barely coughed up any more blood, so Mihawk did not need to worry about more serious internal injuries.

"Well, that was the last time you beat me, don't forget that," Roronoa said, looking at him from an half-opened eye. "Next time I'll be sitting at your bedside."

"Is that a promise?"

"A threat."

With a smile, Mihawk leaned back.

"I am looking forward to that day."

"You're so weird," Roronoa said with an almost childlike giggle. "Who is looking forward to being crushed and getting their title stolen?"

"You will not steal my title from me, you will earn it after years of hard work, Roronoa. But you are right, I am indeed no one who likes to lose." Slowly, he folded his arms and watched Roronoa, who was still looking at him with his sleepy gaze. “But I am awaiting this fight even more than you. It has been so long since I have been able to live out my art and I owe Yoru that we can have fun again to our heart's content."

"That sounds good," the younger one muttered, but his gaze said otherwise. For a moment, Mihawk simply withstood this unfathomable gaze.

"Say," Roronoa whispered, still looking at him so unreadable. "If I have defeated you... Can... can I still come back?"

Once again the younger one amazed him and Mihawk needed a second to understand what the other was asking. Then he smiled and shook his head.

"Roronoa, you are still confused." He leaned forward and pulled the blanket higher over the other’s chest. "I thought I said it clearly: Sasaki and Kuraigana, they are both places where you will always be welcome. No matter what happens in the future, no matter what happens to me or what happens to you. You can always come home."

Roronoa only closed his eye and within less than two breaths he had fallen asleep. Shaking his head at such a talent, Mihawk rubbed his face and watched his little frog for a few more moments.

Eventually he got up and decided to take a shower as well. Slow steps led him over to his room. Yoru greeted him with a gentle hum, a little louder than usual; the old sword had probably noticed that something had happened on the island.

"He will be ready soon," he whispered, caressing the sharp blade softly, "please stay patient just a little while longer."

An approving hum accompanied him to the bathroom, where he carelessly threw his dirty clothes to the ground and entered the shower. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, enjoying the warm water on his body, and relaxed.

But his head did not come to rest, countless thoughts bounced down on him, like the drops of water. At first, the images of the past fight dominated his thinking. The sound of their colliding bodies, quick steps through the dirt, sharp breaths, deep groaning, and quiet gasping for air. He recalled Roronoa's intense gaze, the nasty grin, the jingle of his earrings, his pain-filled grunt as Mihawk had broken his arm. But he also recalled the heated feeling for more, his dry lips, the blood on his fingers, and the disappointment when Roronoa ducked under his arm.

But slowly, the exciting images of the recent past were replaced by the worries of the future, which Mihawk absolutely did not want to think about. He did not want to think about the fact that the two years he had been certain of Roronoa being by his side were about to be over. He did not want to think about the fact that this had been their last training session. Nor did he want to think about the fact that he had been the one, who had broken Roronoa's bones, or that this fact caused unwanted guilt in him.

Mihawk did not want to think of the day when Roronoa would go, nor did he want to think of the ones following. He wondered what his life had looked like before Roronoa had entered it, and he did not have the slightest idea of how to spend his time after Roronoa would have left. He knew it was pathetic that his world revolved solely around Roronoa and his sword art, but Roronoa had been the only unpredictable in this monotonous world.

Sighing, he began to wash himself, but then he noticed something that made all his gloom disappear. His otherwise flawless, pale skin showed clear redness on the upper arm and chest. Curiously, Mihawk quickly finished his shower and stepped in front of the man-high mirror to inspect his body, finding some other reddened spots, as well as one or two scuffs and scratches.

Full of fascination, he touched the largest reddened spot on the right side of his rib cage. It felt awkward, almost painful, would probably leave an ugly bruise.

Mihawk quickly dried up and got dressed, before rushing excitedly to the fireplace room, where Jiroushin was waiting for him, a plain dinner on the table.

"Hey Hawky, I told Perona that just some bread and cheese is fine. She wanted to go to the forest and collect herbs and mushrooms and then had no... what's going on with you?"

Mihawk stood in front of the others and tore down his shirt, which had not even been buttoned up.

"Look at it, Jiroushin!" He exclaimed enthusiastically as he pointed to the sore spots that would start to darken over time.

The blond dropped the newspaper in his hand and looked at Mihawk with big eyes.

"Of course, Dracule Mihawk undresses in front of me. Why not, absolutely not unusual."

"Stop your stupid jokes, Jirou, and look!"

"I am looking, Hawky. A few red spots, a few scratches; what are you so excited about? As vain as you are, you should rather dislike something like this... "

"Do you not understand, Jiroushin? Those spots are sensitive to touch, they will leave bruises." The blond still did not seem to understand what Mihawk was trying to say. "He hurt me, Jiroushin, Roronoa actually managed to hurt me."

Unfortunately, the Vice Admiral did not react as enthusiastically as Mihawk had hoped. He only raised an eyebrow and after a long "Huuuh" he lifted the newspaper up again and seemed to read on.

"Is that all you have to say?" Mihawk complained at once, fetching his shirt from the ground.

"What do you expect? That I’m overjoyed, because of some bruises? I'm sorry, Hawky, but I'm not as emotionally involved as you are and while I'm happy for you to have an actual fighting partner again soon, I certainly cannot share your excitement that you're going to lose your title at the same time."

Now that surprised Mihawk.

“Don't look at me like that. It’s no ill will, believe me. Of course, I'm happy for you and for your twisted and also a little bit worrisome and disturbing relationship with Zoro, and as long as you're happy, I have absolutely no objections, but you just have to remember that your desire to be defeated by him doesn't necessarily meet the norm, okay? Ordinary people in your situation would want to maintain their position of power at all costs and not teach the first promising talent to defeat you soon. So..."

"Calm down, Jiroushin. You do not need to share my enthusiasm, even though it does hurt me a little bit, just for the record."

"Tze." The blond threw the newspaper at him and laughed childlike. "How can it be that a few bruises make you happier than being Ray's godfather?"

Mihawk caught the newspaper while looking at the other one attentively. It might have been meant as a joke, but he knew full well that there was a spark of truth in those words.

"That is not true, Jiroushin," he replied coolly. "Comparing these two things to each other is, in my opinion, unfair and very petty of you. Are you jealous of Roronoa?"

"Oh, God! No!" Jiroushin rubbed his face, and when he laughed this time, Mihawk believed him. “I wouldn't want to trade a day with him. Believe me, Hawky, you're one of the most exhausting people I've ever met and the months you taught me how to fight were the worst of my life..." Well, hopefully that was an exaggeration. "... I couldn't stand for a week what Zoro is doing here and then also meet all your demands and expectations – not to mention this semi-erotic tension that is always in the air when you are drooling over him – and sometimes I wonder how I ever actually endured you on the seas for weeks, so..."

"Just keep talking, Jiroushin. I like to listen to you discrediting me."

"Oh, the honorable Lord has figured out how to use sarcasm."

Sighing, Mihawk tried to find out if Jiroushin was really upset about him or was just making fun of him in an unfamiliar way that he would not have dared to do before.

"Jiroushin," he decided to reshape the conversation in his favor, "I do not need to talk to you about my relationship with Roronoa and its meaning to me, but this has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with my feelings towards you and your family. It offends me that you think I do not feel honored that you chose me as godfather, no matter why you did it. I know you had enough choices to make a wiser decision..."

"Oh, Hawky..."

“I am not done yet. It is unfair of you that you expect enthusiasm from me. You know I am not accustomed to brats and it does not make any difference that this one is from you. Nevertheless, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to save this child, your wife, and you from any calamity. My feelings for Roronoa do not change that, and if I have to stand in his way to protect Ray and live up to the title you gave me, I will do just that."

"Mihawk..." The Vice Admiral had stood up and looked at him with big eyes.

“I did not think it would need clarification, but if that is the case, let me be clear. I know that I am not an ordinary person and I am also aware that I have changed a lot over the past two years, which Roronoa is not insignificantly to blame for, but none of this changes the time we have spent together. You were always by my side and took care of me. There were thousands of good reasons for you to turn your back on me and yet you never did. Even if it concerns Roronoa, you ended up standing by my side, although I could understand if he had been the last straw."

Jiroushin rubbed his neck and looked to the side embarrassed.

"But you are still here and beyond that you asked me to play a role in your child's life. I am well aware of how important this child is to you and the happiness you have experienced, and I am extremely grateful that you are letting me be part of it, even if I cannot appreciate it as much as I owe it to you. So let me tell you one thing. Of all the titles I carry, the one you have given me is the only one I will never give up or give away. In this one thing I will try to live up to your expectations and hopes until the end of my life and to be Ray a decent godfather. Even if that means that I must attend such horrible family celebrations. So you could please... Tze, I am trying to give a poignant speech here, could you please be so polite and pull yourself together."

"Oh, just shut up!"

Jiroushin had always been more emotional than Mihawk, he was well aware of that, but he was always uncomfortable when his best friend cried. Tears of joy were almost even more unpleasant than those of deep sorrow – he could at least understand those – and so the loud snuffle of the other was quite the interruption, while Jiroushin searched for a handkerchief and blew his nose noisily.

"You've really changed, Hawky," he said mildly, "I'm not used to you being so considerate and open, give me a warning the next time. It was just a joke and then you come up with such a speech."

Now Mihawk blushed slightly as he realized that he had actually misunderstood Jiroushin's humor.

"Well," he replied swiftly, turning to the forgotten meal, "now that we have clarified this, I would like to eat and let the past theme rest. Roronoa probably will not be able to eat anything today, and because Perona is in the woods, there is no one to wait for."

Jiroushin followed him to the table and in a pleasant mood they began to eat. Although Mihawk would not admit it, he was happy, while Jiroushin provided the entertainment broadly grinning. Mihawk was truly lucky to have such a friend, who even in this gloomy time managed to fill him with such unquestioned warmth.

He had forgotten. His feelings for Roronoa were so overwhelming that Mihawk had truly forgotten that they were not his only ones. But he had buried these others so well all these years that he had almost forgotten. But now that he was no longer able to resist his feelings, they gradually came back to life.

Mihawk would not be able to prevent Roronoa from leaving and he would not be able to prevent it from becoming a painful farewell. He would not be able to prevent the ensuing emptiness, but Roronoa was not the only valuable in his life.

Jiroushin let him be a part in his life's dream, a dream he had almost lost, for which Mihawk still took responsibility. He had no idea how to treat children, he thought of them as annoying and exhausting, but this one brat was Jiroushin's offspring and if Jiroushin had not arrested Roronoa at that time for Mihawk’s sake, he could at least try to appreciate this godforsaken... at least he should perhaps stop insulting Jiroushin’s child, at least that he would probably be able to do.

"To be honest, I am still surprised that you came here so quickly. I could have sworn that you would not want to be separated from your child for so long after your last stay."

Jiroushin remained silent and the good mood suddenly cooled. Mihawk had probably hit a sore spot.

"Unless my request was not your only reason to visit us."

Shortly the green eyes flashed over to him, but the other quickly looked away, almost as if he was afraid of this conversation.

Sighing, Mihawk rose.

"I am not going to ask, Jiroushin. As a sign of my gratitude that you have agreed to prevent me from seriously injuring Roronoa. If you do not want to talk about it, I am not going to force you. I know you only stay a few days; we can also spend them in pleasant agreement."

He walked over to his armchair and picked up the latest book, translated by Roronoa. When no answer came from the other, he began to read. At one point, Jiroushin got up and cleared the table before he also came over, grabbed the first volume that Mihawk had already prepared for him the previous evening, and also began to read.

"You've really changed a lot, Hawky," he muttered after a while, flipping one page. "I'm really glad we're friends."

Two days later, Jiroushin might wanted to reconsider these statements when they were gesticulating wildly opposing each other.

"For the last time, Mihawk, I don't care if you're the best swordsman in the world, one of the seven Shichibukai, or my child's godfather, when I tell you that..."

"Do not question my competences, Jiroushin! What do you know about this? You are just some small Vice Admiral behind an even smaller desk, so do not presume that you..."

"Oh, I have a lot more experience in this field than you do, you nit-picky descendant of a world aristocrat. Unlike you, I know what hard work and hours of..."

"Hard work? Are you talking about your dance lessons under Monsieur Grouse or stamping your mountain of files?"

"At least I've worked in my life, what about you, my high and mighty Dracule Junior? I've always been quite surprised that you even know how to get dressed on your own. How many years did you need Kanan for...?"

“Hey!”

They froze on the spot as a wave of gruesome horror swept over to them. A few feet away from them, Roronoa sat on a chair in the warm light of the rarely shining sun on Kuraigana, the entire torso wrapped in bright white bandages and barely able to walk alone more than a few steps. But his aura of frustration and displeasure quickly silenced the two elders.

"While you guys are arguing about where the tree is going, Perona has already planted it on her own, you idiots."

He nodded over to the ghost girl, who covered the powerful seedling they were discussing about with earth almost in the middle of the field.

"Perona," Mihawk called her, "stop it. This place is not right! Have you ever looked at the symmetry of this garden? The complete balance would be disturbed by the cherry tree. You have to place it further away, otherwise it will crush the berry bushes and besides..."

"Nonsense," Jiroushin immediately interrupted him, "symmetry is really not that important for a healthy garden, Hawky. But the tree should still not go there, Perona. As a result, the entire area over there is no longer available for reasonable use. If you put it closer to the castle..."

"I'm done!" Loudly, Perona exhaled and put both hands against her hips, standing next to the tree, which was already taller than her. "The tree is planted, right here and that’s it! It's going to grow and cast a beautiful shade and have beautiful cherry blossoms and I'm going to put a bench right underneath and read my books here and if you want the tree somewhere else, do it yourself."

Grumbling under her breath, she stomped away and began weeding the potato field.

Mihawk quickly exchanged a serious look with Jiroushin. He was used to Roronoa standing up to him, but that even Perona approached him like that was something outrageous. Angry, he took a deep breath, but before he could scold her for her inadequate behavior, Roronoa agreed with her.

"Well, it is your fault," he growled, scratching the bandages around his head, "if you two bicker all the time like old men, no one can stand it."

"But Roronoa..."

"Zoro, you can't really..."

"She didn't ask for your opinion concerning this stupid tree. You should just take care of the field here, nothing more."

That was correct. Roronoa had spent the past few days in bed, Jiroushin and Mihawk mainly in the fireplace room, and Perona in the garden. From time to time, the two former crew members had fought for fun, and whenever Mihawk had decided to visit Roronoa, Jiroushin had either decided to read or helped Perona in the garden.

As discussed, Roronoa had been allowed to leave bed today for a few hours and of course Roronoa had promptly overdone it again. Before Mihawk had even woken up, his protégé had decided to play farmer and had dug through dirt for several hours before one of Perona's ghosts had managed to wake up Jiroushin – neither him nor Mihawk were willing to admit that they had stayed up way too long the last night and had a tough time getting up – and had stopped Roronoa after Perona's efforts had been fruitless.

By the time Mihawk had finally showed up, Jiroushin had already renewed Roronoa's dirty and partially missing bandages, and on the younger man's complaint, Mihawk had decided that he and Jiroushin would take over Roronoa's work, whatever it was.

This was less than half an hour ago and they had not started it yet.

"What is this even supposed to be good for?" Mihawk growled dissatisfied, staring down at his little frog, who looked up to him from his chair no less dissatisfied. Although his presence seemed as impressive as ever, he was still unusually pale, and he had little to object to Mihawk and Jiroushin doing the work while he was resting.

"Perona had always planted lettuce on this field here, but in order for the soil to regenerate, she decided to plant only flowers for the coming year and otherwise leave it alone. For this, the Humandrills over there have started to create a new field for the salad."

Roronoa nodded to his left, where in the distance the primates worked tirelessly.

"You are telling me I am supposed to make myself dirty for some flowers?" 

"I am telling you that neither you nor I have any clue about agriculture and since you forced me to sit on this chair you have to do what I would be doing now. So either you pull yourself together or you just let me do my job."

"Stop being ridiculous, Roronoa. You may be able to deceive Perona, but I can see how exhausted you are. Even if I allowed you to do whatever you please, you would hardly achieve anything in your current state."

"Well, since that's settled, start working."

In the background, Jiroushin, who had long since begun to level the ground, laughed quietly, while Mihawk withstood Roronoa's gaze for another second before joining his best friend. 

At first, Mihawk had feared that Roronoa would use their exchanged roles of observer and performer to order him around, but to his surprise the younger man mostly remained silent and only raised his voice when Mihawk or Jiroushin were about to do something fundamentally wrong – as if planting flowers was something complicated – or one of them had a question.

However, Roronoa had not responded to Mihawk's last remark, and a quick glance told him that his little frog had fallen asleep.

Since then, he and Jiroushin worked in silence, Mihawk noting the smile of his friend, which he showed whenever Mihawk risked a quick side view towards Roronoa, who was peacefully dozing in the warm sunlight.

Perona had gone back to the castle a few minutes ago to prepare for lunch, and the Humandrills had apparently already finished their daily work and had also withdrawn.

Thus, the two former crew members were able to spend the rarely beautiful sunny day in peaceful gardening.

Again, Mihawk caught himself glancing over to Roronoa as he began to scatter the seeds into the loosened field, and again a crooked grin told him that Jiroushin had also noticed his gaze. The Vice Admiral chuckled quietly and rubbed his forearm over his face before standing up and sighing.

"That was the reason," he confessed, looking down at Mihawk. "That's why I came here. I was already packing when you called me."

Mihawk crouched on the loose earth and looked up to his friend, who had chosen this moment to explain the reason for his visit. Then he shrugged and continued his work.

"Will you scold me about how irresponsible I am, Jiroushin? You had more than a year to tell me your displeasure about my feelings, and decided not to say anything, so now that he is almost gone, I do not need your sermon. Roronoa will leave in a few days, so any bickering would be pointless."

"Oh Hawky, you're always so suspicious. I’m neither against your feelings, nor would I have the right to be so as they do not affect me in any way. What you feel for Roronoa concerns just you and him, so I'm in no position to judge. That’s not what I meant at all.”

Jiroushin resumed his work and for a moment none of them said anything.

"Well," Mihawk remarked, sitting on the floor instead of continuing, "because I obviously misunderstand you, do you want to tell me the real reason or not?"

His best friend did not respond.

“Of course you do not have to if you do not want to. I am keeping my word.”

Mihawk used the silence to observe Roronoa in detail. The pirate snorted, all limbs stretched out, threatened to almost slide down from his chair. His mouth was wide open, and a fine trail of saliva dripped down his chin inelegantly. His bright white bandages almost blinded Mihawk in the light of the bright sunlight, and yet it was the sparkle of the earrings, the small cross chain, that captured Mihawk's gaze.

Smiling, he shook his head and turned his gaze away. Even after all this time it never bored him to observe Roronoa, because even if he grasped this body down to the last detail, he would never comprehend his little frog.

"Say," Jiroushin muttered, sitting next to him in the humid earth, "have your feelings really not changed at all over all these months? Not at all?"

Mihawk leaned back and looked at Jiroushin and then at Roronoa again.

"You mean my feelings for him?" He asked, although of course he knew what Jiroushin meant.

"Hmm," the other nodded.

He took the time to examine his little frog once more, took the moment to seriously reflect on Jiroushin's question.

"A difficult question," he finally replied, "feelings are nothing touchable or measurable. They are only perceived subjectively, and the memory of past emotions is nothing more than personal estimations, so it is impossible to say whether they have changed or not."

"Oh, Hawky, don't always make it that complicated..."

Synchronously, they sighed.

"I would say they do have changed. Just as intense, just as strong, and unshakeable. My faint hope that they would fade over time has unfortunately not been confirmed. However, they are no longer as wild and impulsive. At the beginning my feelings for him were uncontrollable and have somehow shaped my whole thinking, now they do not overrun me anymore. I would say I had enough time to get used to the situation and my own feelings."

The other nodded and muttered something approving.

"In the past, the certainty of my feelings filled me with guilt and pain..." Mihawk laughed quietly. "... and despair, I will admit that. I never thought that my own mind would betray me like that, especially to some ill-mannered brute like Roronoa, and yet, how lucky am I for what I have been able to experience for the last two years?"

He noticed the serious eyes of the blond. Smiling, he looked at Jiroushin with a raised eyebrow.

"What is it now, Jirou? Surprised by so much honesty?"

Now the other laughed and dug his fingers into the ground.

"To be honest? Yes. You've really changed. Who would have thought that the ice-cold, narrow-minded Mihawk would become such a gentle, open guy?"

"Just keep mocking me, Jiroushin."

"Oh no," the Vice Admiral sighed, grinding dirt between his fingers.

"But now I think you owe me the answer, Jiroushin. You said it is about my feelings for Roronoa and yet you apparently do not want to talk me out of them. So why were you willing to leave your wife and child just to talk to me in person? It must have been important to you."

Jiroushin took a quick look at him.

"Can't you guess? After all that we have discussed, after all that you have said, why should I want to talk to you so urgently and why now?"

After all, Mihawk’s assumption had been correct. He had suspected it at the very beginning, as there had been no other professional or private reasons that could have served as Jiroushin's motivation for the trip. The quiet uncertainty that his best friend would ultimately not approve the past two years had been nothing more but Mihawk’s own conflict over his feelings. Moreover, Jiroushin would probably be the only one Mihawk would listen to.

Shaking his head, Mihawk rose.

"I told you back then, Jiroushin, and my mind has not changed. I will not risk anything, especially now, you should be aware of that."

Jiroushin also got up.

"And just because you're so unconceivable, I thought it was necessary to talk to you, Hawky. Someone has to confront your stubbornness to prevent you from making yourself miserable."

They looked at each other on an equal footing.

"Oh, Jiroushin, you exaggerate excessively. I am aware of what I am getting into and I have made this decision taking into account all the circumstances, so I will not revise it."

Now the soldier clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Tell me another. You can't take the most important circumstance into account because you don't know it."

"So you want to say that I - _I_ \- made a mistake in my evaluation, that I missed a circumstance?"

Unimpressed, Jiroushin approached his gaze and nodded.

"And what should that be, my oh so smart companion?"

"Zoro's feelings, of course, you fool."

That answer confused Mihawk. He briefly glanced at the pirate, who was still peacefully sleeping, before looking doubtingly at Jiroushin.

"What are you talking about? Roronoa's feelings are probably the cornerstone of all my thoughts. Just because I take him into consideration, I decided..."

"You're way too rational sometimes, Hawky. How do you want to take Zoro's feelings into account if you don't even know how he feels?"

"What is the point of this game? Of course, I know what he..."

"You think you know what Zoro feels, but you can't know. At the end of the day, you'll only know for sure what Zoro thinks about all this if he tells you, and he can only do that if he knows the truth."

Slowly, Mihawk took a deep breath.

"I am not going to talk to him about this matter, Jiroushin. He deserves to be able to return to his crew without my burden on his shoulders."

"What he deserves, Hawky, is the truth. He deserves to know what you feel and to have the opportunity to respond to it. It's unfair to him and to you. You also deserve to know what he feels, and you deserve an answer."

Shaking his head, he waved it off.

"Go packing, Jiroushin, and do not burden your conscience with my decisions. We both know that life is not fair, but I am grateful for the last two years and I owe them to Roronoa..."

"You don't owe him anything, Hawky. Not for these reasons and if you owe him anything at all, then only the truth. Do you think he's stupid or simpleminded? If you let him go without coming clean with him, you will regret it forever and your will take away his chance to deal with it."

Mihawk wanted to explain to his best friend that he was about to cross a line when Jiroushin approached him, put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him seriously.

"You're afraid of being hurt, Hawky, and that fear is absolutely human and understandable. I can't force you to do anything, but if you've ever valued my opinion, please trust me this time. This time, be honest with Zoro, not as Shichibukai Hawk Eyes, the best swordsman in the world, not as the noble Lord Dracule Junior, a strict teacher in swordsmanship, but simply as a Mihawk."

Jiroushin smacked him again energetically on the shoulder, then raised his hand to salute and walked his way, towards the castle, leaving Mihawk and Roronoa, who was still sleeping peacefully.


	59. Chapter 55 - Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so I know, I'm a little bit late (like a day, but who's counting, right? o.o), but I come bearing gifts, and not just any gifts, no! The amazing LucioL has drawn some amazing pictures of our two favorite idiots and allowed me to share them with you, so I picked some of them (and it really was hard to chose) and here they are. The scene of the first one you will all immediatly recognize I believe so, and maybe the others as well (tell me, if you do!)  
> I really can't say how much these drawings mean to me. Don't get me wrong, I love writing just for what it is, it is part of my very being and I probably wouldn't stop, even if I wanted to, but it does take a lot of work, dedication and just simply time, time I have to cut off from other things, especially right now, next to working and preparing for the probably toughest exam in my life, it actually take sup whatever little free time I have left, so for most of us fanfic writers there is no greater joy than receiving feedback in any kind of form (some of us jokingly compare it to payment, because most of us are writing and posting as a hobby), to see that all this time we put into something actually pays off by bringing joy to other people. Especially if it becomes that important to them, that they are actually taking the time on leaving a kudo or even a comment, not even mentioning some kind of amazing storylong comments or these stunning drawings, it just makes me really happy and grateful.  
> To be honest, when posting a story, I never expect a review or feedback and I would never judge somebody for not commenting, because just loving a story enough to be willing to share it with the world, even though maybe nobody might like it, is enough for me.  
> But as some of you know I've been having some stressfull months and when I read your guys comments or take a look at these drawings I just wanna cry from gratefulness.  
> The story is slowly coming to an end, but I really want to take this moment to thank all of you, who stuck with me until now (and will hopefully hold on for the last few chapters as well^^'). Thank you! To the silent readers, to those following, to those waiting until a few chapters are up before binge-reading them, and especially to those, who take the time to comment, to critizise, to gush or just to say 'hi'. Just know that all you guys really helped me through some bad times, so thank you^^ 
> 
> and now I have babbled enough (by now you should really know that it takes me some time to get to the point, seriously), so enjoy those beautiful drawings and have fun with the next chapter.
> 
> See you monday^^
> 
> P.S.: Thank you LucioL, I've actually printed them out and hung them up^^

Chapter 55 - Joy

-Zoro-

Warm rays of sunshine woke him, but the cool wind forewarned that the night would come soon. Tired, Zoro tried to open his unharmed eye. He was still sitting in the garden and the red-colored sky above the castle he had called his home in recent months confirmed his presumption.

It might have been a mistake to fall asleep here; the broken ribs and bruised hip complained clearly about the uncomfortable sleeping position. Nevertheless, Zoro was as relaxed as seldom. On Kuraigana he had barely had the time to take a little nap during the afternoons, thus he had slept much more during most nights – except for the time during Mihawk's ultimate training, when the Shichibukai had tortured him with sleep deprivation – but hardly anything was as liberating as a short slumber in the fresh air.

Especially because he was always better off after napping for some time. His body was still hurting, and every movement was exhausting, but at the same time he enjoyed every throbbing and pinching. These wounds filled Zoro with arrogant satisfaction.

When he had faced Mihawk for the very first time and lost terribly evidently against him more than two years ago, it had not been an easy time for him. The Shichibukai had spurred him on to grow and the adventures of his crew had prevented Zoro from brooding too much, but the desperate urge to get better had always been there. During their journey, Zoro's desire to become stronger had grown, just as much as the certainty that they would not be able survive in their current state of that time, and in the end this foreboding had come true.

In the end, Zoro had not been able to protect his captain from the Shichibukai Kuma and his crew from the commander of the G-6 Hakkai, no, Zoro had not even been able to protect himself from the cold blade of justice Homura. 

All this had gnawed at his pride, had made him doubt his determination. Back then, after losing his crew and then himself and his own body, Zoro had doubted for a brief moment, almost giving up.

If he had not landed on Sasaki, if it would not have been Mihawk himself who had found Zoro, then he would have given up, at least for a brief moment and at that moment he would have lost a bit of himself, which he could never have found again and would never have forgiven himself for.

If he was quite honest, Zoro had wondered many times when – and if – he would ever manage to keep up with the Shichibukai. In a conversation, he would probably have always confidently asserted that it could only be a few months, but after his sobering defeat he had quietly doubted, had become unsure whether he could actually realize his dream.

But things had come as they had come and Zoro had given up his pride to learn from the best of the best, and now, after two long years, Zoro was neither insecure nor in doubt.

Just right now, with an aching body, still half asleep on this chair, right now Zoro knew that he would soon be strong enough to defeat even Mihawk, and already now he was strong enough to protect himself, his crew, and especially his captain, and this certainty filled him with pride and satisfaction.

He had stumbled and had fought himself – in several ways – but now he had finally reached the final lap. In a few days Zoro would finally see his friends again and in the near future he would finally realize his dream and fulfill his promise to Kuina.

Whether it was this certainty or the rare rays of the sun, Zoro felt warm and happy, but if he was honest, as much as he was looking forward to the future, he did not want the present to become the past.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the Shichibukai, squatting on the ground just a few meters away and apparently weeding some field. At first Zoro almost did not recognize him; with the huge straw hat on his head and his shorts, he almost looked like a too tall, too serious, and too pale version of his captain. 

Rarely did the other walk around in such casual clothes. One time or another Mihawk had worn simple shirts and Zoro had rarely seen his stupid hat with the feather lately, but the shorts were new.

Once again, Zoro's gaze fell on the other's left upper arm, as so often in recent days. Soon it would fade, but there, half covered by the older man's dark T-shirt, a green-yellow bruise stood out from the otherwise pale skin.

The sight alone filled Zoro with satisfaction, it wasn't much, just a little discolored spot, and yet it had been a small victory, at least after Mihawk had explained to him in his annoying, calm, and know-it-all way that it had been his first injury from a fight in almost fifteen years; even now Zoro was still annoyed about the smug face of the other, when Mihawk had pushed up his sleeve and had explained into detail how this injury had happened, as if Zoro had not been present.

However, he had to admit that he could hardly remember the hits he had apparently landed. In fact, he could remember almost nothing from their first real fight, everything was a blurry mix of colors, sounds, and touches, all but those eyes.

Even now, they burned in the darkness whenever Zoro closed his eye. Mihawk's gaze had frightened and aroused him at the same time, taking his breath away and inspiring him, and he feared and yet also wanted the other to look at him like that again.

But since that fight, Mihawk had not done so; just like now, his face showed nothing but this usual cool and annoying composure. The Shichibukai calmly looked at the flowering weeds in his hands for a moment before throwing them to the side and continuing to dig his fingers through the ground. Zoro watched him with a smile.

That idiot had changed as well. In the beginning Zoro had hardly been able to stand him with his snobby attitude, his annoying manners, and his vain arrogance. In the beginning they had not understood each other at all and yet the Shichibukai had agreed to help him and in time they had become friends.

Yes, if Zoro recalled how he had thrown himself on his knees in front of the other, if he recalled how he had burst into tears in front of the other, at that time he could not have imagined even in his worst nightmare that things would develop like this. He could never have imagined that he would enjoy the hard training under the cold eyes of the Shichibukai and never thought that he would like the evening conversations close to the fire or in front of the chessboard.

On the other hand, he also could never have imagined that he would care about legal gimmicks or historical realities, just as he would never have envisioned his teacher to dig through dirt. They had both changed quite a bit. 

Had the others changed in the last two years?

_You do not want them to treat you differently. But Roronoa, you have changed, whether you like it or not._

He did not want things to change and at the same time he knew that this was beyond his control.

Mihawk was right, whether Zoro wanted it or not, he had changed during his time here, just as all his friends had probably changed, and now he had no choice but to hope that everything would be the same as back then while being not the same. He never wanted to have to go through the same thing again. This time he would protect everyone and return to defeat Mihawk.

"Oh, good evening, Roronoa. Slept long enough?"

The yellow eyes flashed at him mockingly as the Shichibukai looked over and straightened up with a slight grin. The elder slowly brushed earth off his knees before taking off his gloves and coming over to Zoro.

"You really sleep a lot. Even more if you are wounded," he remarked, squatting on the ground in front of Zoro. "How are you feeling?"

Zoro shrugged and looked down at the other.

"Tired," he muttered with a dry grin, which the other mirrored as he took off the straw hat and rubbed over his forehead with his forearm.

"You slept all day."

Once again, Zoro shrugged his shoulders and looked over the other at the future flower field.

"Looks good," he said.

"As if it was a lot of work to throw some seeds on a field," the Shichibukai commented in his usual dismissive manner and stood up again. "The air is getting colder. We should go inside and eat something. I want to change and you should also cover yourself a bit. Now that the sun is setting, it is not advisable for you to walk around half-naked."

"Tze, I'm looking like a mummy, if anything at all I'm sweating to death here."

The Shichibukai did not respond, but only looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a slight grin.

"Well, mummy, can you walk on your own or should I carry you?"

"Oh, just shut up," Zoro grumbled, but allowed the other to help him get up.

Slowly they walked through the garden. Even if Zoro wouldn't allow the other to carry him – and he wasn't sure whether that had been a joke – he couldn't walk as fast as he would like to. But the Shichibukai did not remark anything about this, but ambled through the garden, apparently fascinated by their surroundings, hands folded behind his back.

"Where is Jiroushin?" Zoro asked casually as his own panting annoyed him.

"He went inside to pack his stuff," Mihawk said, looking at him from the corner of his eyes. "Contrary to my suggestion, he wants to leave tomorrow to organize some things. Of course, I would prefer him to wait those few days to accompany you, but... well, at the end of the day, it is probably his decision, even if I disapprove."

Zoro did not respond, and so they went on in silence. In front of him, the other stopped and sighed quietly.

"Although I do not like to admit it, Perona has done a good job - she and the Humandrills - the garden has developed well. I never thought that this island could have a certain charm."

So much praise was highly unusual for the Shichibukai, but he was always a little bit more peaceful when Jiroushin was around, besides...

"Say," Zoro muttered as he reached the other one, "do you like working in the garden?"

With big eyes, the elder turned to him, and together they continued their journey back to the castle. The other stroke his beard and looked up to the sky thoughtfully.

"There is something relaxing about it and at the end you see what you have done. Though you do get pretty dirty and it is work for..." The Shichibukai remained silent for a moment before shaking his head. "No, it is good work and even if it is not as interesting as swordfighting, it is not a waste of time."

Zoro knew that there was nothing worse for the other than wasting time uselessly, so this statement was more than just recognition.

"But do you like doing it?" Zoro remained on topic and met the questioning gaze of the elder curiously. "I mean, is it something you would like to repeat even without Perona asking for help, something that gives you joy and not just something meaningful you can kill time with?”

They had reached the back door to the castle and Mihawk opened it for Zoro.

"It certainly gives me satisfaction, I assume. But whether I _like_ it, I do not know. Do you _like_ gardening?"

"Not really." Behind them, the door slammed shut. “It's like you said, it’s satisfying to dig through dirt and get something done, it's good work. But it also annoys me, to be honest, feels dull most of the time and somehow it reminds me of patching sails."

Slowly they walked down the aisle and Zoro was glad to know that it was only a few more steps to the fireplace room and his sofa.

"Then, what do you like, Roronoa?"

"Except fighting?"

The elder laughed quietly.

"Of course, what do you like besides the obvious?"

"Hmmm... a good party with a lot of alcohol," he smiled, "and in a good mood. I like to watch the others dance and like having good conversations."

He thoughtfully recalled the many celebrations he had initiated with his friends, recalled the one they had wanted to but had never been able to celebrate, but decided not to drown in thoughts, but to answer Mihawk's question.

"Heated discussions rather annoy me – as you should know! - but sometimes they can also be quite interesting. I enjoy the training, both alone and with others. Being taught by you was often really exhausting, but most of the time I really liked it and I like to teach others. I'm not as good at explaining as you are, I'm aware of that, but it makes me proud to see how quickly Choppers got better in the few things I've shown him."

Arriving in the fireplace room, he fell on his sofa and looked over to the other, who also settled on his armchair.

"Actually, it mostly depends whether I am in the right mood or with the right people. Even the best rice wine has a hard time saving a shitty mood."

Mihawk tilted his head slightly.

"It is hard for me to believe that a noisy gathering of rude and ill-mannered people can create a pleasant atmosphere, no matter what alcohol is served. My personal experience taught me to avoid such celebrations."

"We're going to change that," Zoro remarked with a slight grin, "at least after I've defeated you, we'll probably throw a huge party and you're not going to get around it. Then I'll show you how real pirates celebrate and believe me, you'll have your fun."

Now the Shichibukai also showed a soft smile and leaned back.

"For all I care, I will be prepared, Roronoa."

Yawning, Zoro threw his legs on the sofa and lay down.

"You should cover yourself a little bit."

"Stop nagging. I'd rather hear you telling me what else you enjoy doing," he tried to distract his teacher’s worry.

The other was silent. After a while Zoro closed his eye and was already about to fall asleep again when he finally spoke.

"I think a real fight gives me the most pleasure." Mihawk sounded very calm, as if he were evaluating each word. "I would say that the art of the sword really stimulates and inspires me like nothing else. I truly enjoyed our little fight to be honest, I think..."

"And what else?" Zoro muttered, without looking up, after the other became silent again. "What else do you enjoy _besides the obvious_?"

Once again, the elder remained silent before quietly sighing.

"What about all these questions, Roronoa? For what it is worth, I have never thought about that before. Of course I like to enjoy a good wine, but I doubt that is what you mean. Both the war and the smaller skirmishes of the last decade helped against my consistent boredom, but I did like neither and certainly I did not enjoy them." 

Steps told Zoro that the other had gotten up and walked towards the door.

"With a good dance partner I might enjoy dancing, but only if I am in the mood. An exciting book or a good game of chess can inspire me, but my standards on all three are quite high."

The steps fell silent.

"Our conversations and small arguments are sometimes quite invigorating. As long as they do not degenerate into dispute, I could almost say that I almost like them more than some training sessions. Although not in sword fighting, you have always been on a par with me in terms of willpower. Yes, I would say I even enjoy pitting my will against yours. But you probably did not mean that either."

Now it was Zoro, who was silent when the door opened and closed.

It had been a simple question.

_What do you like?_

But of course nothing was easy when it came to the Shichibukai. Why didn't he just say that he liked to read books and to play chess as long as he didn't have a worthy opponent in sword fighting? And what the hell did the other mean with his last remark?

Zoro had no idea what Mihawk meant by that.

Mihawk was probably talking about those moments, when the two of them eagerly discussed things they were both interested in. Especially in the field of sword art they did not always share the same opinion when it came to details and they had spent whole nights debating about little things.

Considering those arguments, Zoro knew exactly what the other meant. Zoro himself had never known anyone who had dealt with the sword as intensively as he did. Maybe Kuina, but at that time Zoro had been a child and naive, at that time he had not known enough to be able to discuss it.

Needless to say, Mihawk had been better educated than Zoro – especially at the beginning – and had known names and terms that Zoro had not even been able to pronounce, but that had not changed the fact that Zoro as well had owned an opinion and he had been able to express and support it with good arguments.

Yes, these conversations had been a lot of fun for him and he understood what the Shichibukai meant by that.

But pitting ones will against each other? Did he mean all those annoying quarrels or something else?

They had often argued during the last two years and Zoro would have preferred they had not, it was such a bother. Yes, he too, had sometimes lost patience and he had sometimes overreacted a bit - although he also had struggled with some physical changes - but compared to him, Mihawk often acted out of his mind, got easily overly upset and dramatic about every little thing and didn't want to admit if he was wrong.

No, these disputes had only been annoying and exhausting and Zoro would have loved to avoid them.

But perhaps Mihawk had been talking about those other conversations. Those apart from the art of the sword, apart from politics, strategy, history, and general education. These quiet conversations, which neither of them really sought, but also did not avoid.

Such moments were the most complicated for Zoro. He was no one to speak lightly about things that occupied his mind – which, admittedly, weren't many things – and if so, only with Robin, who had never needed many words to understand him.

Mihawk was different. Sometimes Zoro had the feeling that this bastard intentionally misunderstood him and always needed far too many words, only to twist their meaning in the end.

Nevertheless, Zoro could not say that these conversations were simply unpleasant, sometimes yes, sometimes he felt as if the other was circling a problem or a topic instead of just asking his question or stating his opinion and that was exhausting. But sometimes these moments had something that Zoro couldn't really put into words.

He didn't like these conversations, thought of them as annoying and threatening at the same time, and yet he was curious nonetheless where they would lead him this time.

Zoro wasn't a great debater, and most conversations were usually too bothersome for him, but the longer he thought about it, the more he realized that he liked to talk to the Shichibukai and that he almost didn't care about the topic they were talking about.

Whether they talked about something ridiculous like hobbies and interests or about the things Zoro didn't even want to think about, in the end he stayed and talked to the other, even if he didn't want to.

Even if he didn't want to, Mihawk managed to make him talk at the end, with his demanding, annoying, theatrical manner. He managed to make Zoro say things he hadn't even thought about before. He managed to get Zoro to open up about things he hadn't known about before.

Perhaps Mihawk had meant those conversations when he had talked about pitting their wills against each other. Zoro had a hard time remembering any other person as difficult as the Shichibukai he ever had to deal with and him actually putting up with it.

Luffy was more of the type of person who solved problems through physical negotiations, and that was just fine with Zoro. Of the other crewmembers, Nami or Franky might have dared to drop a comment, but usually one glance on his part had been enough to silence them if he really wanted to.

Robin had mostly been too smart to let their conversations degenerate. Zoro may have been far more stupid than her, but he had noticed that she had steered their conversations in a different direction whenever she worried that the current issue might lead to disagreements they wouldn’t be able to deal with at that moment.

No, the only one of their crew who had stood up to Zoro from time to time had probably been the damn cook, who was never too shy to challenge Zoro. But even he had never been able to really push Zoro to his limits, either physically or mentally. Their little skirmishes were good to let off some steam or to get some exercise. Their little quarrels could be quite entertaining, but mostly they were annoying.

Although Zoro did not doubt for a second that everyone of his crew had a strong will, he had never put it to test.

But it was very different with the Shichibukai. Zoro was not surprised for a second that Mihawk had pushed him to his limits physically and also in terms of education, but Mihawk was right. Their conversations had never only been superficial small talk, never just polite chitchat, no, they had debated, also and especially concerning topics that at least one of them might have preferred to avoid. 

"Tze, what a bastard," Zoro grumbled, putting his uninjured arm over his closed eyes.

"I hope you are not talking about me."

Of course, Mihawk had to choose that moment to come back.

"Who else would I mean?" Zoro replied, without moving.

"As rude as ever. Here."

A soft fabric fell silently on Zoro's chest, and as he opened his eye, he recognized the green coat he had chosen from all the things Kanan had offered him.

"You should really put something on. You might even catch a cold in your weakened state."

Zoro closed his eye again and did not move.

"I don't get sick," he said calmly. "But I do get hungry..."

"Perona only needs a few more minutes. Maybe you should sleep until dinner if you want. You still look pale.”

"Hmm...", Zoro grumbled only approvingly and decided to put this proposal into practice.

Half asleep, he heard porcelain and glass clattering quietly in the background, the Shichibukai probably set up the table. Maybe he would allow Zoro to drink a glass of wine again today, it was sad that he actually let the older one ban him from drinking.

"Say," he muttered as he decided that his hunger was greater than his fatigue, but still without making the slightest attempt to move. "What do you actually plan on doing after I leave?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I don't really know what your everyday life looks like. I mean, the last two years your life was all about my training and my problems. Must be a great relief to finally be able to return to everyday life, right?"

He received no reply. Did he imagine or was the Shichibukai unusually slow to answer today?

With a quiet grunt, Zoro sat up and looked over to the other, who stared back expressionlessly and finally shrugged his shoulders.

"You overestimate my life, Roronoa. I only took care of you because my life had been incredibly dull and you were the one thing unpredictable. As soon as you leave, my life will return to old monotony, because my everyday life consists of nothing but boring things. The boring newspaper, boring orders from the World Government, boring commitments to the five elders and now I got a boring garden and a boring foundling. Not to mention the whole, incredibly loud, but at least only in parts boring, family Cho. So no, I have nothing special planned to do after you will leave. I will return to my boring everyday life and wait for the day you will challenge me."

Zoro had no idea if the other wanted to mock him, but somehow... it sounded rather disappointing, almost pitifully. 

For a moment, the elder looked at him before continuing to set the table.

Many words came to Zoro's mind when he thought of the other – the majority of them not charming – but boring was probably not one of them. Mihawk was an annoying, condescending, and spoiled bastard, lazy and vain and arrogant, but he certainly wasn't boring.

No matter which place Zoro had mentioned during the past years, the other had known it and had often been there before. He wasn't good at telling stories, and yet Zoro had mostly liked to listen to his reports. 

The other had an opinion on almost everything and did not hesitate to express it out loud, but he usually seemed to know what he was talking about. He was a know-it-all and snobbish, yet most of the time he had patiently taught Zoro, no matter the subject.

Zoro didn't know much about the other's past, but what he knew sounded like a life, adventures and dangers, loss and joy, experiences and longings.

But what the other had just described sounded...

"You should change something." Zoro got up. "If your life is as shitty as you say, then you should really change something."

The other looked over to him briefly.

"But I have, after all, you are standing here."

"Oh, shut up. If I'm the only thing in your life that's kind of interesting, it's pretty pathetic, quite honestly. No one should play a greater role in your own life than you do. So if your life bores you to death - and it sounds to me like it does - then change it and not just wait for me to make it interesting for you, I don't have the time nor the patience to do so."

Reaching the table, he dropped on his chair. He was really tired and was already longing for his bed, but the worst was the broken bones, which in fact still groaned with every movement, even in this form.

"You scold me?" Mihawk sounded almost threatening, but Zoro was used to that kind of tone. "What could make my life more interesting than my future opponent?"

"No idea, look for a hobby or whatever. Perona seems to be getting caught up in gardening and Jiroushin in his family and his work. No clue, learn how to play an instrument or how to knit or whatever. Look for something that isn't boring and do it."

The other laughed quietly and sat down at the end of the table.

"The only thing that really interests me is the art of the sword, Roronoa. Everything else _is_ boring."

"How do you want to know?"

The other looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Chess, you know, I thought it was pretty boring. Or reading or discussing any topics, everything was pretty boring for me. But just because I didn't deal with it. How do you want to know that there is nothing in this world that might interest you if you don't even seriously try it? No idea if it's going to be as great as swordfighting, but damn it, have you just been bored for the last 15 years? You could have tried hundreds of things but..."

Zoro was far from finished with his lecture, but at that moment Jiroushin and Perona came in and, to his surprise, the Shichibukai elegantly changed the topic as they began to eat.

Seriously, Mihawk discussed how Zoro's departure and arrival on the Sabaody Archipelago was supposed to happen and acknowledged every funny comment and casual reaction of another with a disapproving glare.

Several times the Shichibukai mentioned how disappointed he was by Jiroushin because he would leave earlier and thus would not accompany Zoro on his travel. Neither Jiroushin's objection that he would need the time to make arrangements for Lady Loreen's supposed return to Kuraigana, nor Zoro's opinion that he would cope quite well without a babysitter, appeased the lord of the castle.

The main reason, of course, was that the Shichibukai himself would not travel with Zoro. They wanted to avoid any reconnection between Mihawk and the straw hats – at least according to the other – and Mihawk feared that his presence at the Sabaody Archipelago could lead to conflict. Only he knew what he meant by that.

But Zoro would not travel alone. He didn't really know whose idea it had been and who must had been convinced, but Perona would accompany him as chaperon to make sure that no one would notice Zoro's disappearance.

Zoro did not know how exactly Jiroushin intended to fool the entire crew of his warship about Lady Loreen’s absence while returning to Kuraigana, but he decided that this was not his concern.

As soon as he was back with his crew and would take part in life as Roronoa Zoro again, it was only a matter of time before the world would find out that he was also Lady Loreen, and at the latest Eizen would probably lose interest in him and leave him alone, should he even manage to reach him beforehand.

But Zoro did not plan to drop the masquerade directly. Maybe it would be wiser, could be, but if he were to face his friends after two long years, he wanted it as Roronoa Zoro – _only_ as Roronoa Zoro – and their departure from the Sabaody Archipelago would be risky one way or another, they didn't need more problems that would inevitably follow if the world found out the truth.

Soon he would leave, but he couldn't be quite happy, because he knew that he would have one last trial before he would finally see his crew again. After all, he had to arrive a few days earlier to meet Eizen.

He was concerned that the politician wanted to meet with him on the archipelago, not at the Marine Headquarters or Mary Joa. On the other hand, what could Eizen actually know? Only the crew knew when and where they would meet again and so Zoro didn't have to worry, at least not about that...

Suspiciously, he tried to follow the theories of the Shichibukai, but fatigue seemed to win against him, and after he had dozed off twice, the elder strictly urged him to go to bed. 

"You’re no one to order me around," Zoro grumbled, though he could barely keep his eye open, well aware that Jiroushin giggled softly.

"I am still your teacher, Roronoa. So go or I will bring you into your room personally."

Zoro wanted to counter, but then the Vice Admiral rose and stretched lightly.

"Oh, I'm also pretty tired and I'll be picked up very early tomorrow, so I think I'll accompany you, Zoro. If you don't mind."

Shrugging his shoulders, Zoro surrendered to his fate and followed the other out of the room, the hawk eyes constantly pinned to his back. He was tired, and his injured body rebuked him for sitting on uncomfortable chairs for so long that he barely listened to the cheerfully chatting soldier.

“I will have to leave in the middle of the night, so we probably won't see each other. Perhaps we will not have a chance to talk to each other in peace on the Sabaody Archipelago."

Zoro noted that the other suddenly spoke much more seriously than just seconds before, when Jiroushin had babbled about his child and woman and had made fun of Mihawk's exaggerated worries.

"Is there anything we would have to _talk to each other in peace_ about _?"_ Zoro asked with a yawn, looking up to the blond who had lost his usual grin and remained silent.

They eventually stopped in front of Zoro's room and the other scratched the back of his head.

"I can't deny that I like you, Zoro, and Hawky is really wrapped around your little finger, but you know that." Zoro did not respond. “But you have to be aware that no matter what happened on Kuraigana, none of this changes our two roles in the world. I'm proud to be part of the Marine and for Hawky’s sake I've ignored what you've done for the last two years, but once Roronoa Zoro returns..."

"We are enemies," Zoro interrupted the other with ease, "I know. I don't expect any compassion from you, Jiroushin. On the contrary, you should follow your principles and if that means that one day we will face each other in a real fight, then we will fight and I will show my respect for your consideration during the last few months."

The blond looked at him suspiciously, but Zoro just grinned.

"You are not the first Marine I befriended. Because of our roles in the world, we may be enemies, Jiroushin, but I hope we are friends aside from it."

"Of course," Jiroushin muttered directly.

Again, Zoro shrugged his shoulders and turned to the door.

"Then there's nothing more to talk about."

"I'd still have one thing," the elder remarked when Zoro had already half disappeared into his room and turned around wondering.

Embarrassed, the other rubbed his neck before looking at Zoro seriously.

"I don't know how to say it, but... Mihawk is my best friend, I would do anything for him and I have been looking after him all my life. I know you never asked for it, but... he listens to you more than to me and therefore... Mihawk can be very selfish, but in his selfishness he is sometimes very selfless when it comes to the people who are important to him and you are one of them."

Now he seemed almost as serious as the Shichibukai, and Zoro decided not to degrade the determination of the other with some snarky comment.

"You know, Zoro, there is a saying in the Dracule family that you have to bear every responsibility you once took, whether you like it or not. It is one of the few rules that Mihawk takes seriously, and even though I know that it does not apply to you, I hope..."

"What’s your point, Jiroushin?"

Surprised, the other's green eyes widened before he smiled slightly.

"Wow, the two of you really are similar. Mihawk as well always interrupts me when I start babbling. What I want to say is that every friendship also entails obligations and I know you didn't ask for that. You are not responsible for Mihawk, but I would like to ask you to take care of him, especially if I can't. Hawky listens to you when he doesn't listen to anyone anymore, so I ask you..." Suddenly, the soldier bowed to Zoro. "... even if it's not your responsibility, you're the only one who can protect Mihawk from himself and I can't lose my best friend, so please - _please_ \- don't let something happen to him if you can prevent it."

Zoro looked at the other for a long second. He didn't like people bowing to him, there was the impression that he was standing above them, and he didn’t like picking orders.

"Mihawk is a grown man and absolutely able to make his own decisions," Zoro said clearly as the other straightened up. “His decisions only concern him and even if you may ask me to do so, I'm not going to meddle with his decisions, even if they’re absolutely idiotic.”

He could see the other one getting pale.

"However, I would like to assure you that I owe Mihawk my life several times and insist on paying back this debt. I will not allow him to die until I have paid my debt. That means no matter how shitty his idea should be, I'll make sure he won’t die over it."

Then Zoro reached for the small cross of his necklace. He would soon have to hide it somewhere where nobody would notice it.

"In addition, I have already lost too many friends to risk another one. So you can be reassured. You know, he's not the only one who has had to wait more than 15 years to meet an equal. So don't you think I'm willing to wait another 15 years for someone else to show up."

He looked resolutely at the other.

"I do not allow Mihawk to die until I have defeated him, and after that it will be my job as the stronger one of the two of us to protect him as my friend, just as I would protect all my friends with my life. This has nothing to do with responsibility and duty, Jiroushin, that is quite simply my decision. Good night."

He went in and closed the door in front of the Vice Admiral.


	60. Chapter 56 - Departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody^^
> 
> so, here it is!!! It's not the last chapter, but as the title says, it's the day, Zoro leaves, after two long and yet short years. I hope you will enjoy.  
> (And thank you for all the love I received especially after the last chapter, didn't expect that^^)
> 
> Have a great week and see you friday!

Chapter 56 - Departure

-Zoro-

Deeply sighing, he stopped and turned around one last time; he regarded the bed in the pale daylight and let his gaze glide over the empty shelves and the tidy room.

This was his last day on Kuraigana, today he would leave and who knew if and when he would ever return to this room again. It was hard for him to admit it, but somehow he didn't really want to leave.

Well, of course he wanted to leave, he could hardly wait to finally see his friends again. He could hardly wait to finally set sail again with the others and see this brave new world. Like a small child, he was looking forward to moving back to the Thousand Sunny.

But at the same time, he looked at this space melancholy. This room here had been his room for two years. 

Zoro had never had a real home. He had spent his first years at some temple he could never return to. He couldn't even recall the village where he and his mother had lived for a short time and he didn't regret leaving it.

Most of his life Zoro had spent at the dojo of his master Koshiro in the East Blue, and as soon as he would fulfill his promise, he would visit the village Shimotsuki and Kuina's grave, but in the end it was her home, not his.

No, unlike most of his crew, Zoro had never a home where he could have return to, where someone was waiting for him, he had no family, no friends waiting for him, just a generous teacher who was probably not thrilled that Zoro had become a pirate. A generous teacher who had probably mourned him when the news of Zoro's death had been spread throughout the world.

Zoro owed a lot to master Koshiro, and he hoped that he would smile when he would find out that Zoro was still alive, and Zoro wanted to face him with pride one day, and yet...

_This here will be your room from now on. This is not a temporary room, no guest room. This room now belongs to you with everything that it offers. This here is your room._

Kuraigana had become Zoro's home, this plain room had been his room and only now he understood what the others must have felt when they had decided to follow Luffy.

Zoro did not know if he would ever come back to this room here, but only that the possibility existed filled him with a strange feeling that he could not describe in the least.

Shaking his head, he turned around and threw the duffle bag over his shoulder. All things meant for Lady Loreen were already in the entry hall and would be loaded by the soldiers as soon as the Marine ship would arrive. All these things would come back to Kuraigana.

What Zoro would take with him on his journey, all that was in this bag on his shoulder. He didn't need much in his life, never had, and the lavish way the Shichibukai lived hadn't changed that much.

Closing the door behind him, Zoro walked down the hallway, the three swords on his hip vibrated excitedly, they knew that real fights were awaiting them, and even his otherwise gentle Wado-Ichi-Monji seemed to happily await the future. More joyful than Zoro himself, as it seemed to him.

Of course, he would not be able to leave the island in this form, Zoro would have to transform into Lady Loreen beforehand, whether he wanted to or not, and he would do so, later. Before that, Zoro had one more thing to do that he didn't want to do as Loreen, he had to take care of that as himself.

As he walked through the entry hall, Perona walked by, still dirty from her gardening work, and wiped the dirt from her apron.

"There you are," she said hastily, not even stopping. "I'm done with the garden now and will take a quick shower and change, afterwards I can help you to get ready. The warship should arrive within two hours. Is all your stuff here?"

She stopped at the door and looked at him seriously.

"Yes," he replied briefly, annoyed that she acted like she had to look out for him. "Where is Mihawk?"

"No idea, how am I supposed to know? I was outside all morning." She rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “If he's not here, he's probably still in the library, right? Or in the fireplace room or in his rooms..."

"He's not there," Zoro murmured, "I just checked his rooms."

"Then probably in the library or in the fireplace room," Perona replied with a shrug of her shoulders and hurried on.

Zoro did the same and walked over to the library. There he knocked briefly before stepping in and dropping the bag to the ground.

The Shichibukai stood on the other side of the large round table, on which he had just placed Josei. Next to it were the necessary utensils needed for cleaning a sword and for half a second Zoro felt how his stomach clenched. He had liked those evenings when they had cleaned and nurtured their swords together and had discussed the advantages and disadvantages of the various tools. Such evenings would no longer exist from now on.

"Oh, Roronoa, there you are. Have you packed everything you need?" Mihawk showed off his subtle smile as he closed the small oil bottle.

"Please tell me this is not all you take with you," he remarked with his eyebrow raised and nodded over to Zoro's bag. "It is impossible to fit all your belongings into that."

"It's more than I need," Zoro replied simply. "Are you sure you don't want to accompany me?"

For a moment, the Shichibukai's eyes grew large and he looked at Zoro with his mouth slightly open, before calmly shaking his head and turning his gaze away.

"But Roronoa, are you getting sentimental at the end of your stay?"

"Tze, nonsense," Zoro denied. "It’s just common sense. I think it would seem odd for Lady Loreen to travel without Hawk Eyes and because of the meeting with Eizen I will arrive more than ten days before the others. Ten days we could still use if you..."

"Use for what, Roronoa?" Once again, the elder showed this annoying smile. "For some lastminute practice? Do not be ridiculous. Even if you try to conceal it, I can see that the broken bones are not completely healed yet and I am not going to risk anything before they are."

"But..."

"Roronoa, we are not going to spontaneously change the plan that has been settled on for weeks. Farewell is always hard, believe me, I know that."

"Oh, just shut..."

He fell silent when Mihawk held his sister's sword towards him and interrupted their banter with a quiet sigh.

"I never thought I would actually ever give it to somebody else," Mihawk whispered, just looking at him.

"Are you sure I should take it?" Zoro asked, putting a hand on his swords. "I have mine."

"Oh no, I told you it is yours if you can master it." The Shichibukai walked around the table and handed him his sister's sword. "And you have, even excelled in doing so. It would be unfair to use Josei for two years for training purposes and then deny it a real fight."

Zoro took the disobedient sword.

"Furthermore, none of your swords are currently able to adequately protect you as Loreen. Only Josei is strong enough to compensate for your lack of strength."

Mihawk laughed quietly as Kitetsu on Zoro's hip started to clamor.

"Given how badly it yearns for your death it is quite jealous," he smiled while Zoro carefully stowed the given sword in his duffle bag.

"Let me give you one last piece of advice on your journey, Roronoa." Now Mihawk sounded like the annoying teacher Zoro over time had learned to appreciate. "Over the past few months, I have prepared you to meet opponents who are superior or difficult to estimate. But especially of the former not many are in the world that you need to be wary of."

Zoro did not respond. Even if the other sounded quite snobby and arrogant, somehow it was also pretty cool to hear such praise from his soon-to-be opponent. Zoro didn't want to think too much of himself, but oh yes, he was kind of proud right now.

"Most of the enemies you will face, will be obviously inferior to you. Hardly any of them will be stronger than Jiroushin, and if they are, not much."

This statement surprised Zoro a bit. It had been a long time since he had surpassed the Vice Admiral, and yet he had great respect for Mihawk's best friend. Still, he couldn't prevent from being a bit disappointed.

"What do you mean by that?" He muttered. The Shichibukai could not seriously believe that...

"While Jiroushin and I were traveling together, there were rarely moments when I actually had to intervene. Few people are willing to go as far as we do, Roronoa, and accordingly few are as strong as we are."

"What’s your point?" Yes, Zoro was quite proud of what he had achieved, and yes, he was damn proud of the other saying something like that, but at the same time it sounded pretty vain and he didn't need a lesson in arrogance. If the elder wanted to teach him something, at least it should be something useful.

"Tze, Roronoa," Mihawk complained at once. "What I want to say is that for the last two years you have been preparing to meet stronger enemies, but now you should prepare for most of your enemies to be weaker, and even if you do not underestimate them, it would be more than negligent not to hold back if necessary. You could do great damage with your present strength."

In fact, the Shichibukai sounded almost anxious, almost more serious than usual, but that was actually impossible.

"Your talent, to be able to quickly assess the skills of your opponents, will certainly be of use in this regard. But be aware that you must always..."

"... Control myself, when I fight against weaker ones, I know," he interrupted the other. "You forget that I'm not like you. I ca fight well against weaker enemies and still have my fun. So don't worry about such nonsense."

The Shichibukai snorted quietly: "Well, if you say so, but remember that I have warned you. You have changed a lot during the last few months, Roronoa, but the world is still spinning as slowly as before; do not expect it to keep up with you."

Zoro raised only an eyebrow, but did not respond, and so they looked at each other for a moment, before Zoro shrugged his shoulders and slowly exhaled.

"Well, then I have to get ready now and then I'll get going," he remarked, bowing sharply. "I am indebted to you, more than I can or will put into words. So, see you."

"Wait, Roronoa!" The other put a hand on his shoulder when he was about to throw the bag over his shoulder again. "Is this your way of saying farewell? You cannot be serious.”

Sighing, Zoro threw the bag back to the ground and turned around.

" _Farewell?_ Seriously? Don't make such a big thing out of this. As if we would never see each other again. Tze, idiot. We both know that in a few months, at the latest in a year's time, I will be back and challenge you."

The other took a deep breath.

"One year, you say? Do you really think that will be enough time for you?"

Now Zoro grinned.

"Oh, you've always underestimated me. Surely it will be enough, rather less, if I have it my way."

He could see the elder being relieved.

"So, one year, I think I can wait that long. Even if it saddens me not to hear anything from you for a year. Well... ", Mihawk shrugged his shoulders,"... I will probably follow your adventures in the newspaper."

"What are you talking about?" Zoro murmured – rolling his eye over so much theatricality - and burying his hands in the depths of his coat’s pockets. "I know what a control freak you are. You're unlikely to endure the next two weeks here without updates. Besides, I really can do without you chasing me like some overly caring madman all over the world."

The face of the other told him that he had hit the mark. He decisively pulled out the white twin transponder snail the other had given him more than two years ago.

"We will stay in touch, understand? So that you don't go crazy and make Perona suffer. But don't you dare call me every day, because I don't have time for that. I will get in touch if I have time and otherwise I won’t, got it?"

The surprise, which had just nominated the other’s facial features, was replaced by the calculating glance of a trading partner within a heartbeat.

"So you want to forbid me to call you? You expect me to wait quietly here, even if neither you nor the newspaper will bring me updates about the whereabouts of you and your crew for weeks? Oh Roronoa, I will not agree to that.”

Damn it! He had forgotten how relentless the other could be when it came to negotiations. Zoro should never have mentioned this with the transponder snail, but he really feared that this obsessed bastard of a teacher would one day simply show up at the Sunny and cause chaos.

"Na, for all I care. If you don't hear anything for a month, you can..."

"Once a week!"

"What?" He looked at the other in dismay.

"If you do not call every seven days, I will, and if you do not pick up, I will take the liberty to pursue you, after all, I still have your Vivre Card."

"You’re crazy," Zoro whispered. "Once a week? As if I had time for stuff like that when I..."

"Oh, please, Roronoa. As you told to me, your everyday life at sea consists of training and sleeping. In between you will probably find two minutes to inform me about your whereabouts. I do not demand a weekly report, I just want to know that you are safe. It would be a terrible disappointment if you died so close to the finish line and I would have wasted the last two years completely in vain training you."

"Tze, as if the past two years would have been a waste of time for you." Zoro took one step forward and grinned at the other. "Or were they?"

He enjoyed how the other hesitated over that challenging question. Zoro knew that the other hated nothing more than a useless waste of time, and he also knew that Mihawk, rated everything that was not of use for his goal as pointless, and his goal was that Zoro would defeat him.

But Zoro also knew...

"They were not," the other finally admitted coolly, "but that does not mean I would deviate from my conditions."

Groaning, Zoro turned away.

“Fine!" He growled, fetching his back. "Fine, we do it your way, but that’s it, no further conditions."

The other slowly nodded with a victorious grin on his thin lips, closing his eyes as he was enjoying a fine wine.

Zoro just raised a hand for goodbye.

"Well, since we clarified this, I will go now. Don't bother Perona too much, okay? She's still scared of you and I don't want to hear any complaints. So, see you."

He was already at the door when the other still did not answer him. Zoro knew that it would be wiser to go, that it would be easier not to think about the other's motives and just start his journey. Zoro knew that any enquiries, every hesitation, would now only lead to problems he could avoid, should avoid, which were actually not his and for which he didn’t care.

Sighing, he turned around.

Mihawk was still standing at the table, now looking at the floor where Zoro had stood a few seconds ago, a hand supported on the table.

It was obvious that he was carrying out some highly complicated thought processes in his second to none mind, his jaw trembled slightly as he moved it back and forward, concentrated furrows stretched over his forehead and his eyes fixed at the ground in front of him as if he was trying to burn a hole into the stone just with the power of his thoughts.

He was probably aware of Zoro's presence, but he didn't seem to have decided whether to say what he thought, and Zoro hadn't decided whether he really wanted to hear it.

Some seconds passed until Zoro finally decided that he was neither good-natured nor patient enough to wait until the other had arranged his thoughts. If the other man didn't spit out what his problem was, it couldn't be that important and Zoro wouldn't deal with other people's problems if the other couldn't even open up his mouth. Moreover, Zoro did not want the other to open his mouth and speak out his thoughts aloud.

He shrugged and turned to the door again.

“Roronoa.”

Damn it! He should have left. Why didn't he just go?

"There is something else... what I need to tell you." The Shichibukai sounded unusually constrained, but Zoro didn't want to know about what was to come. "I admit that it is not easy for me to talk about it, but I do not think it would be fair towards you if I would not tell you."

Mihawk behind him took a deep breath before quietly huffing.

"Seriously, this is not as easy as I hoped," the elder muttered. "Maybe it would be better to leave you ignorant, but now I have already addressed it, so I should just..."

"Hey!" Unnerved, Zoro groaned and turned around. Mihawk met his eyes, both hands clenched to fists and somehow, he seemed even paler than usual. "So first of all, you gabble too much. If you want to say something, spit it out and don't make such a fuss. And secondly, how stupid do you think I am?"

The other opened his mouth slightly, as if he really wanted to answer.

"That was a rhetorical question, you bastard. I know exactly what this is all about and why you're beating around the bush like that."

"You know...?" If somehow possible, the elder became even paler.

"Of course, after all, I'm not a complete moron and you're not exactly discreet. Moreover, it’s not as if Perona, Jiroushin, or Kanan were subtle in their remarks. I may not be a genius, but even I can add two and two together."

Oh, if he had known that the other could make such a face, Zoro would have raised the subject much earlier. The mixture of absolute panic and nervousness made Mihawk look years younger and not half as arrogant as usual, at the same time Zoro was only too aware that the upcoming conversation would be a pain in the ass and he had avoided the topic for this very reason.

"Then... then you know how I feel?" Mihawk sounded stunned and he shook his head slightly. "You know that I..."

"Don't say it," Zoro coolly interrupted him. "I don't wanna hear it."

"But..."

"No, now I'm talking, and you shut up. So, Jiroushin once told me that I have to take the feelings of my friends into account, because otherwise I don't appreciate or respect them, and even though I couldn’t care less about others’ problems, I do respect my friends."

He folded his arms and did not let the other speak at all.

"But to make this clear: I have dedicated my life to my dream and my crew and that means I can and will not take anything or anyone else into account, so you will not say anything now. Because if you say what we both know now, then I have to take that into account, then I have to give you an answer, and I cannot do that, understand? I don't want to have to take your feelings into account and I can't give you an answer, because there is no place in my life for such a thing, neither for you nor for anyone else. It's one thing to choose between the life of my friends and my own dream, but this either-or-question can't include another life that I don't want to put at risk."

Meanwhile, the Shichibukai looked at him almost without expression, analyzing each of his words like a move on the chessboard.

"Therefore, you will not say anything, not today and not in the future. Not because you don't deserve an answer, but because I don't even have one for you, and as unfair as you may find it to deny me the truth, I think it's unfair not to even give you an answer. But that’s the truth, I can't take you into consideration, so please don't say anything so I don't have to treat you disrespectfully."

For a long time, the other looked at him, also folded his arms, and then thoughtfully placed a finger on his lips.

Zoro, meanwhile, did not move at all. He had decided to stay and to open this can of worms. He meant every word he had just said absolutely seriously, and he had deliberately used many words so that even a stubborn head like the Shichibukai could understand him. He did not want Mihawk to confess his feelings, but he could not more than warn him. If it was more important for the Shichibukai to tell the truth, no matter the consequences, Zoro would not run away like a coward, but would face him, even if he had no answer.

Because it was exactly as he had said it. He didn't want to and couldn't worry about such things, he didn't care about such things, and he wouldn't risk any words or enticements distracting him from his promise and from his duty.

As always, he withstood the stinging gaze of the hawk eyes, could hardly guess what the other was thinking, and for the first time he wished to know what the other was thinking, so that he would know what to prepare for. 

Surely he had not expected the quiet smile that the other gave him, still leaning his index finger against the corner of his mouth.

"These were unusually many words from you, Roronoa," Mihawk said mildly smiling and in the most annoying Hawk Eyes manner.

"Well, you know, the more words I need, the more stupid you usually behave," he answered, replying with a nasty grin.

For a moment they looked at each other in silence, then the Shichibukai sighed and started pacing up and down the table.

"Well," he said with a deep breath. "I do not want to force you into a difficult situation, so I will stay silent."

Inside, Zoro breathed a sigh of relief, but he didn't show any of that.

“Of course, this is nothing but a farce, but you know that. Finally, I know now that you know what I know and..."

"Get to the point."

"Do not be so impatient, Roronoa, you wanted to remain respectful."

"No, I just said I don't want to get _dis_ respectful."

Quietly, the Shichibukai chuckled and then looked over at him from the corner of his eye.

"I bow to your will, Roronoa. But let me ask you one thing: If you ask me in all clarity not to demand an answer from you, since you cannot give me one and do not want to hurt me, do you not already take my feelings into account?"

He had guessed that the other would ask something like this, and yet he was almost surprised.

"To make that clear," Zoro grumbled angry. “This here right now is a pain in the ass and you're an incredibly annoying bastard and I can't wait to wipe that arrogant grin off your face.”

He took a deep breath and continued to speak as the other tried to reply: "But as you know, I would never do anything that I would regret later, so even if you're an annoying bastard and all of this really pisses me off - because you're once again really making things more complicated than they are - I'm holding on to the fact that I don't regret anything from the past two years, nothing, got it?!"

The Shichibukai stopped and looked at him seriously.

"You do not regret anything?"

Now it was up to Zoro to laugh quietly before he fetched his bag and threw it over his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Absolutely nothing," he said clearly, leaving Mihawk behind.

-Mihawk-

As the door fell close, he thought he could feel his heartbeat again for the first time. Heavily he rested both hands on the table in front of him and took deep breaths before finally settling down on a chair and rubbing his face.

Roronoa knew. Mihawk did not know since when, but obviously was he neither as subtle as he had suspected nor Roronoa as dull as he always pretended to be. But what was even more astonishing – even more frightening – for him was that Roronoa had accepted it as it was. The younger one had neither made fun of him, nor pitied him, nor rejected him in disgust.

Deeply inhaling, Mihawk leaned back and rubbed through his face again as he gradually realized what had just happened. Then he hit the table.

Again! Again he had underestimated Roronoa, even with something as trivial as Mihawk's own feelings, he had underestimated the other, and he was annoyed that Roronoa seemed to be able to see through him that easily and that he hadn't even noticed it, and Mihawk called himself a tactician and strategist!

At the same time, he could hardly believe the happiness that rushed through him, like an unstoppable tidal wave. The one thing he had lied about to Roronoa all this time, he could now be honest with. Roronoa did not seem more annoyed by the recent developments than usual. No, if Mihawk thought about what had happened, the younger one seemed to have almost waited for him to address it.

If Roronoa really did not want Mihawk to talk about his feelings, he would have just left after taking Josei, right? So, if he had willingly waited, what could...?

"What did I tell you about doors and privacy?" He did not even look up when the projection of Perona slid halfway through the wall behind him. "In addition, this technique loses its validity when you are so easily noticed."

She clicked her tongue quietly – something she had clearly copied from him – and floated into his field of vision.

"This way is just faster, okay? The Marine ship has just arrived, and I still have my hands full with Zoro. You have to open the door."

"Excuse me?"

He could hardly believe what she was saying, and as her projection blurred for a second, he knew that she was trembling with fear.

"It's not my fault, okay?" She justified herself now, her voice higher than seconds before. "I'm still taking care of Zoro's hair and we need a few more minutes. It was agreed that he would come directly to me after packing, what can I do if you keep him from... oh... "

He covered his face with both hands and rolled his eyes as she put two and two together _._

"Oh! You talked about it? Finally?!"

It was quite pathetic that his behavior had been so obvious that even the ghost girl had seen through him, yet Mihawk had actually believed he had been behaving inconspicuously.

"And?" She had to hover right in front of him, so loud and close was her voice. "What did you say? What did he say? How..."

"I would advise you now to remain silent, Perona. Ask Roronoa if you are that curious, but do not test my patience, especially today."

His good mood had faded within a split second. For now, he realized that Jiroushin had been right from the beginning. He had only been able to take Roronoa's own thoughts and feelings into account to the extent that he had suspected them. But he had been mistaken, and if he had found the courage earlier and had told Roronoa the truth earlier, he could have enjoyed this new feeling of harmony and confidence for so much longer.

But now Roronoa's departure overshadowed this little happiness. Yes, the younger one had not rejected him and had even allowed him to keep in touch, but one way or another things turned out just as Mihawk had feared from the beginning, Roronoa was about to leave him behind, as determined and discussed from the very beginning.

He stood up and ignored the wobbling projection of his beneficiary as he left the room. He wished Roronoa would stay, even though he knew full well that the younger one had to go to be happy.

But again, he was the one left behind, as by all the few people who had ever been important to him. Of course, it was not Roronoa's intention, not even his responsibility, but it still hurt.

On the way to the grand entrance door of the castle, he took cloak and hat with him, showing himself as the Shichibukai that the soldiers feared when he opened the doors.

The soldiers came, intimidated and insecure, followed his cold orders without even being able to look at him, took the luggage of the honorable Lady Loreen as quickly as they could, and rushed back to the ship.

The Rear Admiral, who came up the steps to him a little later, hardly seemed less impressed, even if he tried to hide it much better. Mihawk did not know him, even if, he was not interested, but he asked for the name and looked at the young man dismissive.

"I will only say this once," he explained coolly, pointing to the soldier, who seemed barely older than Roronoa, "should something happen to my associate on the way to the Sabaody Archipelago, I will eliminate you and the whole crew of your ship, have I made myself clear?"

Now the soldier's lost his poker face.

It was not surprising that someone like him had been sent, it was not an exciting or even dangerous mission, at the same time the more experienced soldiers were not stupid enough to expose themselves to his wrath, so they had sent a novice, as a kind of test of courage or even just for general amusement.

He did not care, no matter why this boy had come, Mihawk hated to entrust those dear to him to the Marine and everyone should know that.

"And once again you exaggerate excessively."

He forgot to breathe for a second as the door opened to the entrance hall and Roronoa came out. Perona had once again outdone herself and he wondered why she had done this. For traveling Lady Loreen needed rather practical clothes and there was no one Roronoa needed to impress today.

So, it was obvious that she had done it only because of him, and although he disliked it, she had not failed.

The training of the past years showed its fruits also in this figure, Mihawk thought, elegant physical tension and every step as light as a feather; whether Roronoa wanted to or not, at least in high heels and in this body he moved like a dancer and Perona had made sure that he looked that way as well.

But the gaze Roronoa placed on him was, as always, the same. No matter what fine dresses Perona put him in, no matter how magnificently she painted his lips and no matter how perfect she put his green curls in position, Roronoa and his stinging eyes were still threatening.

Then Roronoa turned to the Rear Admiral and, as so often, he seemed to merge perfectly with his role.

"Please don't let his words trouble you. It gives him security to threaten other men."

Mihawk coughed. He was used to Roronoa mocking him and especially as Loreen he sometimes said things that Mihawk would never have expected of the youngster, but that just now...

The Rear Admiral bowed swiftly and rushed to the pier.

"What was that supposed to mean, Roronoa?" He grumbled dissatisfiedly as the soldier was far enough away. "I know it was my idea to let Lady Loreen be Hawk Eyes’ weakness, but..."

"It had nothing to do with Lady Loreen or Hawk Eyes," Roronoa coolly interrupted him, but his eyes sparkled evil, telling Mihawk to be careful, "it was the simple truth, bastard."

Before Mihawk could reply, Perona came out of the castle with two oversized suitcases, and even though he had hoped that meaningful words would accompany this heavy farewell, he was not surprised that Roronoa just nodded at him and then walked down the stairs with Perona.

It did not suit Roronoa to postpone a farewell through grand speeches and it was always easier for the one leaving, not for the one left behind.

So Mihawk stood there, watched the great Marine ship in the distance, and felt this empty feeling settle in him. The rational voice in the back of his mind questioned all the decisions and discussions in which he had spoken out against accompanying Roronoa to the Sabaody Archipelago, but he knew full well that this decision had been the correct one.

Two years ago, it had been a torment for him to bring Roronoa back to his crew; he was aware that this time he would not be able to simply be the silent observer, so he stayed behind.

As he stood there, he watched the Humandrills gradually come out of the shadows of the trees, some of them running to the shore and waving after the ship, apparently mourning the departure of their master.

Unlike Mihawk, they showed their feelings quite unashamed, some of them even seemed to cry, others rushed to the garden tools and began to continue their work tirelessly but blindly.

They were always like this, when Perona left, even if she would come back after a few days, each time the primates behaved as if their world were about to collapse and this time Mihawk could not even blame them.

Suddenly one of the primates came up to him and offered an almost clean handkerchief.

"Oh please," he dismissed the primate. "I am not like you."

He turned around and walked back into the castle, pushing the doors shut behind him. For the first time in a long time he was alone in his home, he could now do whatever he wanted, no longer had to argue with annoying residents or care about early training hours.

It should be a relief. Mihawk had never liked the position as a teacher – mainly because of the bothersome work and his lack of patience – and now he should be grateful that this phase of his life was completed.

Slowly, he walked through the castle until he reached his room, where Yuro was already gently humming. He pulled up a drawer underneath and took out a small white transponder snail, which he put in his pockets, before taking his sword and leaving the room, constantly haunted by the cold stone walls.

Arriving in the garden, he settled next to the cherry tree seedling in the grass and placed the black sword next to him.

"I was supposed to call Jiroushin," he muttered, knowing full well that his childhood friend would forever mock him for having been right once.

Quietly he sighed and lay back, trying to enjoy the rare rays of sunshine, but it hurt, and it cost all his willpower not to jump up and rush after Roronoa.

"Hopefully, they won't be attacked by pirates."


	61. Chapter 57 - Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> first of all, I'm happy the last chapter made you guys react so much^^' I had a great time reading your thoughts, but oh well here we go again, things will slowly get serious again, welcome back where it all began, two years later: The Sabaody Archipelago!
> 
> Have fun^^

Chapter 57 - Arrival

-Zoro-

"Hey, you there! Hand over ya money or you’re done!"

"Ain’t looking like some rich guy, probably just some poor dude."

"But those swords could be something."

"Hey! Stop moving! You there! We are talking to you!"

"Hmm?" He looked up from the note in his hand as the barrel of a shotgun pushed into his field of vision. Six guys had surrounded him, all of them with their weapons on attack.

"Give us your money, tourist, if you value your life, and your swords. By the way, really looking stupid with three of them at once."

"Could’ve sworn I’ve seen this guy somewhere," muttered the guy, who blocked Zoro's direction with his weapon.

"Can any of you tell me how to get to Grove 13?"

"Joking, aren’t we? We are on Grove 13, idiot. Now hand over those swords, will ya?"

"Oh, really? Thanks." He had not noticed that he had almost reached his destination, he could have sworn that he had been at the hotel district just a few steps ago.

"Hey! I said _stop moving_!"

"Say," whispered one to his left, "wasn't there this pirate who fought with three swords? From the East Blue or something? Maybe..."

"Stop talking bullshit! You mean this pirate hunter from this weird straw hat crew, but he's dead, for ages, just like the rest of them."

Two others also laughed, and the one with the gun closest pressed its barrel against Zoro's chest.

"Right? You're just one of those wannabe tourists, think you look cool showing off your pricey swords."

"Well, the guy looks neither cool nor rich," muttered one of the others.

"Oh, doesn't matter, fact is that our new friend here only has muscles for show, just like those swords, right?" Now the guy stuck his tongue out. "You don't know how to use one or the other and you have absolutely no idea how to fight, don't you?"

Zoro shrugged his shoulders before slowly looking up from the barrel blocking his note to the man behind the gun.

"You wanna find out?"

The stranger took a step back, now pale as death and trembling, as if he had seen a ghost.

"So... I uh..."

"I'm looking for the Bottakuri Bar, can you show me the direction?"

"Um... So... Um... that’s… over there… that direction..."

"Thank you."

He went on. It would have been easier to spare himself the whole show, but at least he knew now which direction he had to take, and he had to promise Perona to behave _discreetly._

_"You have to behave! If you blow your cover, we might geht caught! Mihawk will go berserk if someone realizes who you are, or worse, sees you transforming. So…"_

She had been such a bother. The whole journey she had asked him the most annoying questions, and neither had been intimidated by him nor shut up.

After they had arrived he had explained her that he had something important to take care of and that she should cover him. She had not stopped nagging, almost worse than the Shichibukai could, but in the end she had helped him to leave the hotel unnoticed in his true form.

_"Come back when it's dark. I'll leave the window open and make sure no one sees you."_

Her powers could be quite handy, even if her negative hollows were still annoying. With a quiet smile, he recalled the day she had accidentally caught Mihawk with one. No matter how superior the Shichibukai was to both of them, even he had not been able to resist the effect of negative thoughts.

_"My life is a pure waste of time and my fighting style is barely above average. I’m not even worth Harakiri."_

It had been really funny, at least as long as the effect had lasted. After that, Perona had feared for her life, and even Zoro had spent an annoyingly hard and long time calming the Shichibukai down. They both had sworn to never talk about it again, but that did not change the fact that it had happened, and even if Zoro did not want to use this knowledge against the other, he would never let the other forget what had happened.

His smile faded when he saw the bar, he had entered more than two years ago for the first and last time, back then accompanied by the Shichibukai.

Shaking his head, he buried such thoughts in the back of his mind and decided to leave the past behind and concentrate on the present. No matter what had been, in a few days he would finally see his friends again, finally search with them again for new adventures.

He just had to survive his meeting with Eizen and then hopefully it would be as carefree as it used to be.

At the door, Zoro stopped for a moment. No, he should stop hoping that it would be the same as back then. The others might be as carefree as ever, but he wasn't. Things had changed and he had as well.

He decisively opened the door.

"Oh, hello Zoro, you're early."

"What, aren't the others there yet?" He asked at Shakky's welcome with a grin and stepped in. "Typical."

"Do you want to have a drink? You've certainly had a tiring journey." The bartender already filled a beer mug and since the annoying Shichibukai was not there to scold him about the bad influence of alcohol on healing bones, there was no reason for him to refuse.

"That would be great," he replied with a wry grin and closed the door behind him, dropping the duffle bag to the ground.

A soft whistling made him look up. On the sofa next to the bar, the Black King folded his rustling newspaper and pulled his glasses down slightly as he inspected Zoro and finally rose.

"Well, someone has changed. If I didn't know the picture of your wanted poster, I would have never recognized you," Rayleigh welcomed him now.

Zoro just nodded as a greeting and stopped so that the old man could regard him. By now he was used to this observing, after all, Mihawk had always looked at him that way.

"What are you talking about? The similarity between him and Mihawk's concubine is more than obvious. I'm rather surprised that no one has figured it out yet, especially your gaze says it all," Shakuyak laughed now, offering Zoro the beer mug.

"Concubine?" He replied, settling down at the bar. "No thanks. I have no interest in anything like this."

She giggled softly and winked at him. "My sister told me otherwise."

Zoro rolled his eye and picked up the beer while the former pirate sat down next to him.

"Kanan reads too much between the lines," he murmured, emptying his drink at once.

"The scar fits you," the bartender remarked, before lighting a cigarette, "I dig men with scars."

"I would never have noticed," Rayleigh laughed softly. But then he became more serious and turned to Zoro. "Well, you're early and without his Lordship? He did not accompany you? I'm curious, is there a special reason?"

The old man was smart, as Zoro had already noticed during their first meeting two years ago. He seemed to be able to talk with Mihawk on an equal footing and the Shichibukai allowed that only to few, on the other hand he was, of course, the former vice captain of the Pirate King, if Mihawk did not even have respect for him, for whom then?

"I have an important appointment here tomorrow, so I arrived early," he replied truthfully.

"Oh, of course, that makes sense," the old man muttered with big eyes while Shakky also offered him a beer mug, refilled Zoro's, and then escaped into the backspace. "But why are you visiting us today? It’s quite unexpected."

"It is?" Zoro smiled into his drink. "I thought you were expecting me."

The Dark King only grinned but did not respond.

For a moment, they both enjoyed their beer in silence, while Zoro could almost hear the conversation his crew must have had in these rooms two years ago like the ghosts of the past.

"You developed well," the old man broke the consensual silence, "Mihawk really took training with you seriously. I must say I am surprised, hadn't thought of him as a good teacher, he's always so condescending."

Laughing quietly, Zoro agreed with him: "That's true, but yeah, he taught me a lot."

"But not everything, right?" They briefly looked at each other. "At first glance, it doesn't seem to me like you've crossed your limits. Your aura is very different from Mihawk's."

"That's true," he muttered, turning back to his glass, "unlike him, I don't plan on losing control."

"Oh, really." Once again, the other whistled quietly. "So, you decided to take the rough road. I'm impressed, you would be the first demon I know who would survive this path."

"And what about Luffy?" Zoro asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Oh please, he might be a beast like you, but he's a D. not a demon, but you know that," the former pirate said with a soft smile.

Zoro replied only with a shrug of his shoulders.

"As Shakuyak said last time, it takes one monster to recognize another."

The old man laughed again.

"No, no, she said it takes a monster to kill another, and if I remember correctly, she meant you and Mihawk at the time. The parable wasn't about me at all." Rayleigh also took a deep sip. "How come Mihawk doesn’t accompany you? Last time I had the feeling that he was very reluctant to let you out of his view."

With each minute Zoro became more grateful that the Shichibukai had not come with him. If his behavior was apparently so obvious, then it would certainly have led to annoying complications if he had come across Zoro's crew.

“He thought it would be more inconspicuous. The presence of a Shichibukai could make the Marines wary, especially as he assumes that our departure will not go unnoticed."

"Mhm," Rayleigh quietly agreed, "the pain of parting. I can understand that well."

"What the hell...?!" He stared at the old man.

"Sorry, aren't the two of you a couple? I mean, I wouldn't have thought just from the newspaper, but Shakky said that you..."

"No!" Zoro coolly interrupted him, wondering how outsiders viewed his relationship with the Shichibukai, if almost everybody he knew came to the same conclusions. "He's my teacher and an annoying bastard. We're not a couple!"

For a second, the old man looked at him over his glasses.

"Oh, is that so?" He asked with a slightly raised voice and pursed lips. "My mistake, sorry. As I said, the newspaper articles are appearently misleading, and it's not as if it's not conspicuous if you're running around here as you and have an appointment as Lady Loreen tomorrow, right? That's why I thought... well, it just sounded to me like an excuse... but as I said, I hardly know you and do not know anything about your... just... the newspaper articles... and Shakky."

Helplessly, Rayleigh shrugged his shoulders as he started to mumble and eventually drowned his words in his beer.

Zoro didn't believe him a single word, but he wondered if at least some of this rubbish might be true.

"I'm not here because of Mihawk," he grumbled, emptying his mug.

"Of course not," Rayleigh sighed, and Zoro could have sworn that the former pirate sounded disappointed. "So Zoro? How can I help you?"

Grateful that they had finally changed the subject, Zoro turned to the old man.

"You know where the Sunny is, don't you? You wanted to coat it if I recall correctly. I'd like to put my stuff there. If our departure is as tumultuous as I think, I don't want to have to worry about that anymore. It's also annoying to drag the stuff around with me all the time."

He nodded over to the bag.

"Sure, I can take you there," the elder agreed, and suddenly there was nothing left of the stammering old man when he coolly inspected Zoro, "but that's not the real reason you came, right?"

"No," he confirmed, following the drop of water from his empty mug with his finger, "you said back then that you met others like me, is that true?"

The other hesitated for a moment.

"You mean people who died but then came back into life in another body?"

Zoro nodded and looked at the other resolutely.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about them."

"What?" Doubtful, Rayleigh furrowed his forehead. "Why me? Ain’t this some secret community that wants to prevent outsiders from even knowing anything about it? So why do you think I might have interesting information?"

"Because you have, right?"

Then the other leaned back and looked at him with a half grin. Then he laughed.

"You're really different than I expected, especially after what your friends told me. But who knows, maybe that's just Mihawk's influence, isn't it?"

Zoro decided to ignore this comment.

"It's true that I know a lot about the reborns, more than I probably should, and more than I doubt is good for me," the other continued, staring at his pitcher. “In your place I would probably also try to exhaust all possibilities to get more information. It's not like people like you are given a manual explaining everything, and some of what I've heard contradicts other inforamtion. So yes, I'm ready to tell you everything I know, but I don't promise it's much, nor that it's correct."

"I can live with that," Zoro grumbled, his arms crossed. "How did you learn about us? Did you have one in your crew?"

"Oh no, but..." The other looked at him briefly. "Do you know that some people who have had a near-death experience are able to see your shadows?"

"What?" He straightened up while Rayleigh nodded.

"Yes, don't ask me why and how some people can do it and some don't. One of our crewmembers could. She has seen all the shadows of people who have died before and then come back to life. We all thought for a long time that she had a devil power – she really didn't like to swim, I tell you – but no, it was her gift and she had set herself the task of helping everyone she met."

"When you say she was able to see everybody’s shadow, you mean..."

"Yes, not only of the reborns."

Zoro stared at the other. Did he know about... _her_ , the being from his dream, who had explained to him why he was allowed to live on and had left him the choice, the soul guard.

"Asbru could see shadows of all those who once stepped behind the veil of death," Rayleigh continued, "so of the reborns like you, who decided to keep their memories and tie them to a new body, but also from all the others who almost died, but then returned to life with their memories." 

"And this Asbrus told you all of this?” Zoro muttered thoughtfully. This could explain how Eizen had come to his ability, perhaps he could also see the shadows because of such a gift. After all, he didn't have a shadow himself, at least as far as Zoro could see.

Rayleigh shrugged his shoulders.

"Few people who nearly died have a gift like Asbrus, and rarely has it been as noticeable as hers was. But people like you are almost even rarer. On all our journeys, we have met maybe five, maybe six. Asbru thought she might have hit a total of twenty, but hardly any like you. Few have, in the end, returned to their old bodies and their old lives. Most have started a new life."

Zoro thought of Jade, who had already helped him out twice, and Banri, the man who had actually explained to Zoro what had happened to him; both had started a new life and only their closest confidants knew who they really were.

Zoro had never understood their motives. Why would he have returned to life if he had not planned to live his life? No matter his body, he wanted to fulfill his dream, protect his friends, accompany Luffy on his way to become pirate king. But at his choice, he would always prefer this body here, well aware that this could present new problems for him.

"You really know quite a lot," Zoro muttered.

Once again, Rayleigh shrugged his shoulders.

“But that’s about it. I mean, I certainly don't have to tell you what happened after your death. You probably already know all this, or why you have this body."

Zoro nodded. He recalled very well the dream in which he had faced the soul guard in the afterlife, who had given him the choice between three gates. He had hoped that Rayleigh might have known something, but he did not expect such accurate information.

"Say," he said, "you don't happen to know what a traveler is?"

He could feel the eyes of the other, who said nothing for a long moment.

"Why are you asking this in connection with the reborns?" The old man sounded suspicious, and when Zoro turned to him, he could see the Dark King frowning.

"That's what the soul guard called me."

For a fraction of a second, Rayleigh's facial features slipped, but then he got as serious as before.

"I understand," he muttered, "that explains a lot of things, of course."

"And what does it explain?" He questioned displeased.

"It explains why you follow Luffy. Now I understand."

"What? What does this have to do with Luffy?"

Quietly laughing, the old man bowed his head.

"Pretty much everything if you ask me. What a coincidence, when the others spoke of you, I was already surprised, a Roronoa, probably the last of his kind and then in the crew of a D." Again, Rayleigh laughed before putting a hand on his chin and nodding thoughtfully. "It really seems to be fate, doesn't it? You will hardly have decided to follow him on a whim, right? Oh, I'd love to know what your motives were."

"What does this have to do with the travelers? I don't really believe in fate and I don't really care..."

"Wait, wait, wait," Rayleigh interrupted him, "you want to tell me you don't know what a traveler is? This was not a trick question? You really don't know?"

For a moment, they both looked at each other in roughly the same way.

"What?" Zoro asked, who no longer understood a word.

Rayleigh, on the other hand, leaned forward and looked at him curiously.

"Oh," he whispered softly, "you don't remember. I understand, you're a traveler with no memory.”

“What?”

Loudly, Rayleigh clapped his hands and jumped up.

"That's so exciting. Then it was really fate. Oh, Roger would hit the ceiling with excitement."

"Rayleigh!" He growled, and also stood up. "What are you talking about?"

The old man put a hand on his shoulder and suddenly looked at him seriously.

"It's good that you've come early, Zoro. I will tell you what you need to know but be sure that ignorance can be a blessing."

"I want the truth."

Rayleigh nodded and sat down again, taking a deep breath.

"Am I right to assume that you don't want to know the things your captain didn't want to know?"

Zoro simply nodded and shrugged his shoulders at the same time. He didn't want the old man to spoil him the adventures that were waiting for him, but he needed to know what had happened to him, after all, Eizen seemed to know.

"Good, then the pared-down version," the other side while Zoro sat down again. "Okay, how to start? Well, travelers are very, very old creatures, who supposedly live far longer than our time calculation can measure, and aimlessly wander around the world – maybe they do have an aim, I don't know – and do for what they exist. What exactly that is, no idea, they are only mentioned a few times in half a sentence."

Zoro listened attentively to the other, recalling the words the strange creature had told him.

_The older the soul, the stronger its power. Yours, for example, is still one of the original souls, an extremely rare example._

"It is said that travelers carry the burden of the world on their shoulders, and that is why they are called guardians of the world. However, world could also mean king in this context, and then travelers would be the king's guardians, which fits much better with the rest of the story, according to which this king could hear their thoughts at any time, no matter how far apart they were, even if the king did not even know who they were, had never met them. Over time, fewer and fewer knew what travelers were, and the people who could hear these old voices didn't know who they were coming from, so they were called the voices of all things."

Zoro remained silent.

"There aren't many of them anymore, maybe there have never been many of them, who knows. I didn't know that they could die like humans, but maybe they're just human beings; we know very little about them, but..." Now the former pirate looked at him directly. "... you are the first one I have heard who does not know what he is and cannot remember his previous lives. What a coincidence that you have decided to return to life."

For a second, they were both very quiet, then Rayleigh laughed.

"I'm sorry, that's certainly quite a lot for you to process."

Sighing, Zoro scratched his head and then huffed silently.

"To be honest, I don't really care. I thought it would help me with one of my problems if I knew what it meant to be a traveler, but I don't care about all this esoteric nonsense."

“What?”

Rayleigh looked at him with big eyes, but Zoro shrugged his shoulders again.

"Yeah, doesn't really matter how old my soul is or whatever. I thought you had a trick for me on how to keep this body longer or something useful, not such ancient nurse tales."

"I just told you one of the greatest mysteries about the world, and you..."

"And you could have really saved both of us that time." Disappointed, Zoro stood up and scratched his neck. "Well, what happened, happened. Okay, let's go to Sunny so that the day is not completely wasted."

For another second, the other looked at him shaking his head, then he laughed out loud and rose as well.

"Well, come on." Still shaking his head, Rayleigh walked to the door. "You are just as incorrigible as Luffy. He didn't want to know about these things either, because they bored him, even though they are so important to your destiny."

Huffing, Zoro grabbed his duffle bag and followed the other.

"Tze, I don't believe in fate, Rayleigh, and all this crap of destiny and so on is pretty much the same to me. I'm here because my decisions have taken me here and nothing else."

The former pirate muttered something under his breath and together they went to Thousand Sunny.

"I'm waiting for you here," Rayleigh remarked as Zoro went onboard.

A strange melancholy filled him when he finally walked over the Sunny again after such a long time. The last time he had been here, he had stopped the cook from attacking Mihawk and then cried in front of the entire crew. If he thought about it like that, there might be one or two more reasons why it was wiser not to reveal that he was Lady Loreen so soon.

_"Hey Zoro, let's go collect stones for a campfire!"_

For a moment he thought he heard Luffy, almost saw him pulling him across the small meadow.

_"What for? Let me sleep, Luffy."_

_"But it's an uninhabited island, Zoro! We have to make a campfire! Usopp is already collecting wood, but we are still missing stones."_

_"Don’t you need more wood than...? Okay, for all I care, we're going to collect stones.”_

Almost wistfully he remembered that day, when Luffy had made an unbelievable effort to lure him from the ship as inconspicuously as possible, so that the others had time for their preparations.

They had just left Thriller Bark a few days ago, and his bruised body had been constantly complaining as he had stumbled across the island behind Luffy and collected stones – just as his body was now complaining about his cracked bones, what a déja vu – while he had actually only wanted to sleep.

Slowly, he opened the door to the boy's bedroom. It was still as terribly smelly as he was used to, and he could already hear the cook in the background nagging that they should open some windows.

He walked in carefully, things were still lying around wildly, as if the others had just gone ashore, as if this room had not been deserted for two years.

His eyes fell on the first two bunks, the upper one was Luffy’s, as messy as ever – was that a glass of jerky under his pillow? – below it was his bunk. Zoro couldn't remember how he had left it behind, probably as messy as his captain, but now the blanket was neatly folded, as if someone had really taken their time with it.

He turned his gaze away and walked over to the lockers. Each of them had his own, but since Zoro had never needed as much space for his few clothes, he had finally given in to the cook’s annoying whining and begging and had given him the upper half of his. Presumably the cook had taken his over completely after Zoro's _death._

“Oh.”

As might be expected, the chef's casual clothes took the entire top half of the locker, and immediately Zoro noted the smell of coffee and cigarettes in his nose, as if the blond was standing in front of him.

But the bottom half was filled with Zoro's clothes, but they hardly looked like his. They all had been neatly ironed and folded, something he would never do. He wasn't as messy as Luffy or Usopp, but that didn't mean he would iron his stuff like a housewife.

At second glance, even the remaining pair of boots looked as if someone had taken the trouble to clean them. As if someone had expected him to come back today and quickly cleaned up everything last night.

"Damn curly brow," he murmured, simply stuffing his duffle bag onto the folded pile of trousers.

He had thought that the past two years had gone by quickly, but the last ten days, until he would finally see his friends again, felt like an unbelievably long time.

He really missed them, even the damn cook.

A few minutes later, he walked back to Shakky's bar alongside Rayleigh.

"You're very quiet," the old man said.

"Oh, just shut..." Zoro looked up and looked at his counterpart, then shook his head and grinned slightly. “You don't know me, Rayleigh, I'm always quiet.”

For a second, he had forgotten who was walking next to him and who wasn't.

"Oh, really? Last time I had a very different impression. You talked a lot."

Zoro did not respond, and the former pirate did not ask further. They said goodbye at the bar and Zoro promised Shakuyak to come back before leaving.

He was actually looking forward to returning to his old life soon, but a dull feeling in the stomach area weakened his joy and the upcoming appointment dampened his mood one way or another.

But it was only one last time, if he was lucky, Zoro would only have to play Lady Loreen once more, tomorrow, and that day came faster than expected.


	62. Chapter 58 - Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> so this is it! The last official chapter and I could say a lot of things (but I will save that for friday ;-P), so all I will say for the moment is thank you for all your kind words and have fun with the ones following ^^
> 
> See you friday!
> 
> Sharry

Chapter 58 - Truth

-Zoro-

"You can’t be serious," he muttered, his arms crossed. "I don't care who she is, I won't do it."

"Lady Loreen is a confidant of Rishou Eizen. If someone has the chance..."

"And I said I'm not doing it," he growled, well aware that it wasn't half as intimidating in this form as it would be in his real one. "If Eizen catches me, we’re all in trouble. You want that?"

In front of him stood Vice Admiral Comil – also known as the reborn Jade – and Lieutenant Yaone, whose shadow showed the giant of a sleeping man. These two were officially Lady Loreen's escort, as Mihawk had not accompanied him and the World Government wanted to ensure the safety of their precious guest. Zoro was well aware that this could not be coincidental, after all, Jiroushin was supposed to provide and represent the escort.

"And what about Vice Admiral Cho," he asked in annoyance, "I was told on my journey that he would be responsible for me."

Comil showed a humble smile and bowed swiftly, but the smile of his shadow seemed anything but harmless.

"Oh, good old Cho," Comil waved off, "I was able to convince him that I was better suited for this task. Besides, it's not as if protection is really necessary, or is it, Roronoa Zoro?"

"Tze."

"Vice Admiral Comil, what is the point of this?" The soldier complained and looked at Zoro disapprovingly. “I don't want his help. He's the monster of the G-6 and I'd rather die than having to owe him.”

"But Yaone. It is important to find out who you are and why your old self has decided to return. Am I not right, Zoro?"

Once again, he clicked his tongue.

"I don't care. But how can she even be one of us? I thought all the reborns remember their lives. Isn't she one of those who voluntarily gave up their memories?"

"Oh, looks like someone knows a lot." Comil was very enthusiastic. "But no, it's not like that. Only people who come back to life with their memories cast a shadow from the old days. So she has to be one of us."

"But her shadow has his eyes closed as if he were asleep. I have never seen one like that before."

The Vice Admiral nodded.

“I assume Yaone lost her memories in an accident shortly after she got that body, so it's important that she recovers them, and our job is to help her.”

Unnerved, Zoro sighed and began to pace through the room.

"Fine, for all I care, but what does this have to do with Eizen?"

He really didn’t care about helping Comil and his train of reborns, but he probably owed it to the other because he had not betrayed him to the Marine, and after the whole thing with the G-6 it might not be inappropriate to help Yaone, after all he had almost killed her.

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted as Comil wanted to speak. "I am not interested in a past in which I supposedly have died, nor do I want your help!"

Meanwhile, she pointed her finger at Zoro. Her entire right hand was bandaged, and he knew from the files that she had suffered severe burns all over her body.

Now he stopped and shrugged his shoulders.

"And again, then what do you want here? I can't change what happened, okay, and if you don't want my help anyway, then just go. I have better things to do than talking to two soldiers who are preaching to me about unity and family just because we happen to have a similar story."

"So you're not willing to help us?" Comil asked coolly.

“I'm not willing to do anything stupid to help someone who doesn't want my help or to change anything about their current situation. I'm not social services, understood? If she's as happy with her life as it is, why are you so obsessed with finding out her past?"

The Vice Admiral was unimpressed.

“Even though Yaone doesn't know it yet, once she remembers her past, guilt will pursue her for not trying to figure out who she was sooner, and therefore, even if she doesn't want to, it's my job to help her.” The serious gaze that the lieutenant received made even Zoro swallow. "But even with all my means, I couldn't find out more than that she was probably a soldier, so we need help, your help."

"Why?" Zoro replied. “I don't have any access to anything. I have nothing to do with the Marines at all. If she used to be a soldier, you just have to look at the personnel file, right?"

The soldier nodded.

"That's true, but among all the records I haven't discovered the image of her shadow."

"So? No soldier."

"But I know he was, because I myself have seen this very soldier several years ago in the company of Sengoku."

Now Zoro was almost curious, this annoying discussion would certainly be something that would interest Mihawk. After all, that bastard liked intrigues and secrets much more than Zoro, as long as he could use them against the respective person.

"And again: So? If there are no records of an alleged soldier, how I'm supposed to get information using Eizen?"

Comil nodded again.

"Only the Fleet Admiral and the Commander-in-Chief have access to all the Marine's documents, they and a few selected people of the World Government, including Eizen."

"And you want me to somehow get hold of these documents about some secret soldier, with nothing more than that shadow there as a clue?"

"Exactly, otherwise we only know that he probably died ten to fifteen years ago, because her memories go back as far as that. I know it's little, but it's all we have.”

Zoro remained silent for a moment and looked over to the big clock. He would have to hurry if he did not want to be late. It would certainly not be easy if he were to actually help Comil and Yaone. He would need an excuse why Eizen should give him access to the database, and also...

"I'm not going to do it," he said coldly.

"Like I said, you're an asshole!" The soldier claimed.

"What?" He growled back. "You don't even want my help, right?"

"Zoro," Comil said with his hand raised, "why not? Is it too dangerous? Too risky? I didn't realize that working with Rishou Eizen is so important to you."

"It would be risky," Zoro finally admitted, looking at the Vice Admiral, "but not for me, but for all of you. He can see them, the shadows."

"Oh." Astonished, Comil put a finger on his chin. "I had feared it, but it was nothing more than a dark foreboding."

Zoro nodded.

"So far, he ignores the other reborns, because he’s not interested in you, but..."

"... if he notices that we are meddling with secret files, for whatever reason, he could become curious and blackmail us with his knowledge or betray us all," Comil concluded. "Is that what he does to you? Is this the reason why a pirate like you suddenly acts as the voice of peace and guardian of the weak?"

Zoro waved it off.

"That was his speech, okay? And I've got to go now, otherwise we'll all have a problem."

"That means now that the whole thing here was completely in vain?" Yaone grumbled, looking grimly at him.

"Not quite," Comil disagreed, again showing that slight smile that gave Zoro goosebumps. "From your words I understand that you have not become our enemy, have you?"

Zoro shrugged his shoulders.

"To be honest, it's all too bothersome and annoying. You helped me, so I'll help you if possible, but I have my own stuff to worry about and if she doesn't even want my help, then I don’t really care." He walked to the door rubbing his temples. "And now I have to go. I don't really want to get even more problems because of this shit."

His mood had reached its lowest point by now, and it had not been particularly good right from the start. He did not understand what Comil had hoped for; that Zoro would actually search through mountains of files he couldn’t even access, which were probably even hidden in a secret safe on the G-1, if they still existed, for a picture of the shadow of some girl, who didn’t even want to recall her past life?

This was no longer grasping for straws, but a very last desperate attempt, even though all hope had already been given up.

He had no interest in all of this. Of course, he had helped Yaone back then, when they had met again, but primarily because he had not wanted to kill her, because she could have exposed him, but all this annoyed him more.

On the other hand, he had no interest in selling the others out or giving Eizen even more power than the politician already had, and he did understand Comil. He also believed that Yaone might regret it if she remembered at some point, but that wasn't his problem either.

He was almost grateful when they entered the large room where Eizen was already waiting for him, and Comil and Yaone finally left, even though the biggest problem was now sitting in front of him. 

During the last year, Eizen had rarely called him, but now Zoro stood in front of him again, while the politician sat at the large desk and worked through a mountain of files.

"Sit down, sit down, my dear. I will be right with you in a second."

Zoro did as he was told and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his suit pants. The advantage of non-public gatherings was that Perona's choice of clothes was usually a little more comfortable, so he wore a simple grey suit today and his shoes had only enough heels to make every step clack. 

"I am surprised that Vice Admiral Comil is your bodyguard, my dear, according to my documents, Vice Admiral Cho, closest ally of his Lordship, was supposed to ensure your safety," the old man remarked, without even looking up, and wrote on.

Zoro shrugged his shoulders.

"I have no knowledge of the internal operations of the Marines," he replied coolly.

"But you would like to, wouldn't you?" Surprised, Zoro looked at the politician, who winked at him over his monocle. "After all, Comil asked you to do just that, didn't he? You are supposed to look for the sleeping man in the secret files, am I right?"

He didn't know what annoyed him more, that Eizen knew about everything once again and talked to him about it as a matter of factly, or that Zoro wasn't even really surprised. He had suspected from the beginning that Eizen would notice if Comil wanted to take advantage of him, but apparently Eizen already knew for a long time and Zoro had no idea how to talk himself out of it.

“And of course you're going to say that you have no idea what I'm talking about, but let me make this short. Needless to say, I cannot share with you any secret information such as name, rank, or Marine code, but I hereby confirm that he was a soldier in the undercover special unit and died on duty 13 years ago." Eizen rose and walked around his huge desk. In front of Zoro, he finally stopped and offered him a piece of paper. "You can give this to Comil, he has to figure out the rest himself."

Distrustful, Zoro took the paper and stared at a young man in cadet uniform who looked quite similar to Yaone's sleeping shadow.

"Of course only if you should see Comil again." This sentence made him listen. How he hated these conversations with this man, he never knew what the guy would come up with the next second. "After all, I heard that you are about to go on a longer journey, during which you would prefer to avoid any contact with Marines." 

Oh, fucking shit!

"Oh, don't look so alarmed. Some of the straw hats have set off for the Sabaody Archipelago weeks ago, and why else should you refrain from being accompanied by your valued Lordship, if not to escape an unpleasant situation of revelation?"

Of course, he should have known. Eizen himself had told him that he had the others observed and, of course, he had drawn the right conclusions.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zoro grumbled, as probably expected, and folded the Marine's photo over and over.

"Of course not," Eizen almost laughed. "How long do you want to play this charade, my dear? You have been working with me for two years now and have solely benefited from it. I have not betrayed you to the World Government or to your esteemed Lordship. By the way, what have you told him that he willingly let you leave and will not see you for weeks now?"

The politician sat down opposite Zoro on the huge armchair.

“He didn't accompany you because he thinks you're going to come back, but of course he doesn't know who you are and that you don't plan to return. It is well known that Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk hates pirates just as much as Marines and I don't think you're ready to break his heart just now, after two long years of lying. So what did you tell him?"

Zoro stuffed the folded note deep into his pocket and looked at the other.

"That I have an appointment with you to prepare for the Reverie."

"Ah, that was smart, of course. There is only a short time left before the World Conference, where no Shichibukai is welcomed, and it is plausible that you would spend the time until then to help me, and you knew that knowing your little secret I can give you the alibi you need."

He did not respond; Zorro had the feeling that it was often better to keep his mouth shut talking to Eizen, something that Mihawk was never able to. The politician now leaned forward.

"And of course I will help you. Until the Reverie, I will pretend that you are working diligently to help me and not traveling along with the straw hats and making a fool of the Marines. However, I advise you to arrive early, also in your interest. After all, I can't risk losing you so close to the finish line, can I?"

"The _finish line?"_ Zoro asked, the clenched fists still hidden in his pockets, where Eizen could not see them. "So you were aiming for the World Conference from the very beginning?"

Almost indignantly, Eizen raised both hands.

"Oh, wasn't that obvious? I thought you'd already realized it and knew exactly what to expect from now on." A cold shiver ran down his back as the other looked at him smiling smugly. "But if you like, I'll explain to you exactly what soon your tasks will be."

"Why would you do this?" Zoro whispered, without looking away. "If you initiate me into your plans, you run the risk that I could betray you and you would never risk that."

Now the politician laughed and threw himself back in his armchair.

"Oh, that's very amusing, really. Don't get me wrong, my dear, you are the cornerstone of my reform, but you are not in any position to even be dangerous to me. Even if you were willing to risk the lives of your friends, your _acquaintance,_ and yours, in the end your word would be against mine and even if I have given you quite a lot of influence..." Suddenly he leaned forward and grinned at Zoro, his eyes flashing red. "... no one will believe you."

Then the politician got up and went back to his desk, where he poured two cups of tea and offered Zoro one. But Zoro did not take it, so Eizen simply put both on the table.

"Well, we still have some time before we have to go to the meeting, and I see that you are very tense. So why not, my dear, ask me your questions."

Perhaps it had been a mistake to think that he would be able to deal with Eizen on his own, but Eizen still seemed to think he had trumped Mihawk, and as long as this was not a simple lie, Zoro would at least be able to protect him, and if it was just protecting him from doing something stupid.

"You spoke of a _reform,"_ Zoro continued hoarsely, looking at the teacup in front of him, "are you going for a coup at the World Conference?"

"Oh my dear, I'm thrilled, that's exactly the plan."

He could feel his limbs freeze.

"Oh, don't be so surprised. Someone like you is certainly also aware of the state of our World Government. Nepotism and corruption are actually the smallest problems in this organization. The world is ruled by a handful of dictatorial narcissists with a god-complex who are too simplistic to understand things like politics, economics, and state systems. Only the five elders exceed their tyranny, while the many leaders of the small states try to save the survival of their own people, or at least those in their personal favor."

Zoro remained silent.

"You have seen the world, my dear, you know all the abysses of humanity that open up through greed and hunger for power. Slavery, human trafficking, war, and deceit even fueled and promoted by the World Government, which is supposed to prevent this. Why do you think there is a Revolutionary Army? Why do you think there are more outlaws than ever before? Our World Government has failed, and it is time to start a new chapter."

"And you think you're the right man for that?" Zoro muttered flatly, still looking at the teacup, he couldn't disagree, this world was a disaster; the more Zoro had learned over the last few years, the more he had seen, the more he had to agree.

"Well, somebody has to do it, right? Believe me, no one knows the immorality of World Government as well as I do. I worked my way up from being a simple trader, cheated and lied, blackmailed and bribed just to get into this position. The aim of the current World Government is not to spread justice and prosperity all over the world, but to give the powerful even more power and money at the expense of the masses. And because I've seen all this and know what's going on, I'm the only one who can change it."

"Because you are such a benevolent and good-natured person?"

"I know how presumptuous my vision must be. But yes, I have the knowledge and experience to lead the world into a new age."

"With you at the top, of course."

"Not quite, of course I am going to take control myself, but as you know, I prefer to stay in the background and just hold the strings. Such a world-moving reform needs a greater appearance than my old body can offer."

…

“You’re getting quite pale, my dear. But quite right, I prophesied you two years ago that you would be the symbol of a new era and I did not promise too much. At the beginning of the Reverie we will overthrow the five elders and Mary Joa and then the leaders of the world will have the opportunity to swear their allegiance to you and they will do so and then you and I will change the world. Why else should I have molded and promoted you this much?"

Zoro took a deep breath, but he found it unusually difficult to breathe. His battered bones hurt under the pressure of his tense muscles.

"And you really think I would go along?"

"Of course. You must understand that you could rule the world with me, but if you refuse, I will destroy everything that ever was important to you, whether pirate or king's daughter, little girl or Shichibukai. I know what kind of person you are and what you are willing to do for the people you want to protect, you're not going to stand against me and you're going to play your role as long as I need you to. The image, you and the honorable Lord Dracule gave to the world, has been perfected by me and I am willing to pay the small price of Dracule's hostile looks, but even he will not be able to change the fact that you ultimately belong to me."

Zoro felt sick.

"Why me?" He whispered. "There are certainly many people better suited for this or willing to help you, why did you blackmail me to get me into this? Just to push me into this position that you actually want to have yourself?"

The politician clicked his tongue quietly and made Zoro look up, only to see a monstrous broad grin.

"Now you ask the right questions."

Again, Eizen rose and walked over to his desk, pulling out a file. "But you're mistaken. You are exactly the person I have been looking for, oh, for so long. It was a great luck to have found you at the meeting of the five islands. You being present, accompanied by the always dismissive Lord Dracule, surprised me, your valuable Shichibukai is a selfish hermit whose heart is a block of ice and who always seemed so unconquerable, certainly not by a pirate. I got curious and did my research on you."

He came back and put the file next to Zoro's already cooled tea.

"And finally, I found in you the last piece of the puzzle in order to be able to carry out my long-planned reform." Eizen opened the file. "The last Roronoa."

Zoro stopped breathing. He had been prepared for many things when he had entered this office, and he had not expected some revelations, but nothing could prepare him for what was now in front him.

"The similarity is amazing, isn't it?" Eizen continued. "I never suspected that she was actually related to you, but then, when you were facing me in this beautiful dress, my dear, it was obvious."

In front of Zoro lay a photo of an ancient wall-hanging depicting a woman as clear and sharp, as if time itself had immortalized within the fabric. Next to it was another, much older photo in black and white showing a corpse on a cracked wooden floor near a flaming fire pit. Although the empty eyes of the dead stared rigidly through the picture and she were marked by hunger and pain, the resemblance to the wall-hanging was unmistakable.

He swallowed and couldn't turn his eyes away.

“Unfortunately, we found her too late back then, or someone warned her, I don't know. But after we lost her, I had given up all hope of ever being able to pursue my plan. Who would have guessed that the stories were wrong, who could have guessed that Roronoa Zakuro actually had a child, could hide that child from the world and history, and that this child would come to me at the best possible time fifteen years later." 

He couldn't take his eyes off his dead mother. She looked exactly like he had found her back then, bend in pain, the poisonous plant still in her hand.

"I don't understand," he muttered absently, completely unprepared for the strange feeling that was spreading through him.

"How should you? So, let me explain," Eizen replied as gallantly as ever. "Do you know what the three Ancient Weapons are?"

"What?" Confused, Zoro looked up. Tried to find the connection between his dead mother, an attempted coup, Lady Loreen, and the mythical weapons of war, even though he just felt incredibly numb.

"Well, Pluton, the legendary war ship, whose blueprints were burned by Catty Fram. Poseidon, the secret power of the merfolk, and then there is Uranus." The grin of the politician grew steadily, if at all possible. "Uranus is currently the only ancient weapon in the possession of the World Government, and it rests well guarded in the depths of Mary Joa. There are very few people who are in a position to take a look at this weapon, and I certainly do not have to explain to you that I am one of them. "

It was still difficult for Zoro to take his eyes off his dead mother, but he became even more uncertain about what the other would say.

"Uranus is the oldest and most powerful of the ancient weapons. The weapon of heaven, which can only be controlled by the first generation. And now you also know, my dear, why the World Aristocrats are so afraid of those with the D. in the name."

Zoro froze.

"Only a person with a D. in the name is able to control and use Uranus. This is what the celestial dragons fear most, that one of the first generation will take the weapon of heaven and burn their wings."

"But that has nothing to do with me," Zoro muttered, and decided to close the file, "I don't have a D. in my name."

"Absolutely right." Eizen enthusiastically leaned forwards. "And so I will now entrust you with a secret that few people know. Only a few poor devils of Ohara before they died, and perhaps the five elders, but everyone knows that they are too proud to believe in nurse's tales."

Eizen licked his lips.

"The ancient weapon Uranus can only be used by the first generation, but a D. alone is not enough. For not only the D. belongs to the first generation, even if it is the most famous and powerful line of the first generation, the line of the king, but every king also needs a protector."

_That is why they are called guardians of the world. However, world could also mean king in this context, and then travelers would be the king's guardians._

He got cold.

"To use Uranus, you need the king's line _and_ the guardian's line. The king's descendant has the power to use Uranus, but Uranus can only be activated if a steady flow of energy keeps it alive, a very specific form of energy, the blood of a Roronoa, the last descendants of the guardian."

Quietly, Eizen laughed.

"History made everyone believe that Roronoa Zoro could not possibly be a true _Roronoa._ The five elders thought that the lineage had been exterminated for centuries, and I myself was there to witness the passing of the last Roronoa, and nothing in this neglected hut indicated that a child would live there, even the villagers remained silent, as did the monks of the temple. But when I saw you there, in this noble dress, like your mother used to wear, personification of dignity and pride, it was impossible to unsee it."

Now Zoro's hands trembled in the depths of his pockets.

"But even if you were right," he said softly, "don't you still lack a D. to use Uranus?"

"Oh, of course, my mistake. You know, the world knows me as Rishou Eizen, but actually my name is Eizen D. Rishou." He stared at the old man in dismay. "You should be surprised what a simple exchange of name order can do."

Now the old man leaned forward again and Zoro felt the need to get some distance between them, but he resisted the urge.

"You see, now I have all the pawns in position and soon, the two of us will overthrow the World Government together, with your blood and your face, and my power and my knowledge."

"But I..."

"I know, I know, you are not Roronoa Zoro, because he died two years ago. Just keep up this charade if it makes you happy, if it makes Mihawk happy. But soon you will give me your true form and your blood, after all, you would never risk the life of your friends, wouldn't you, my dear?"

Zoro did not respond, but slowly reopened the file in front of him and looked at the wall-hanging.

"Hmm, I understand, that was a bit of information. Take your time, we have a few minutes left before we have to leave. Take the time to understand your importance for world history. In the meantime, I will go through the speech for today. It is certainly in your interest if I hold it this once."

He said nothing. Gradually, he pushed the picture of his dead mother aside to find the photo of another wall-hanging underneath, this time with two figures, a woman and a man. At the sides and beneath the illustrations were characters embroidered, but so small that Zoro could not decipher them, only the large embroidered few symbols above the picture he could read without any problems.

"Read everything. You may also keep the images if you wish. I assume you don't own something like that.”

Above the portrait of this woman looking like his mother and some stranger stood _Alciel_.


	63. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> yes, the day has come, this is it! Sorry, it's the end! (but I want to point out that this is not the reason, why it took me a day longer to post it. I just came back from work really late yesterday and just finished my weekly practice Exam today, and in ten minutes I will head back to work, so I just want to point out, that I saw those lovely comments I received, but I will not be able to answer them just now, I'm sorry, please be patient with me, I want to! and will answer all of them. Thank you so much for your support!!!)
> 
> And now, I have to get to the most important part of this note! Before posting I was slightly worried it might come across as bragging, but you know what, I love it and I got so emotional so I really wanted to share it with you guys and I feel it's such a great way of ending this story, so here it comes:
> 
> The lovely Kuneruru has shared some amazing art with me and allowed me to share it with you guys (so of course I had to!) and as I have told you guys before, I never was one of those writers, I'm happy writing in my little niche about things I want to, even if it's not the big deal, but damn it (sorry) all the love and appreciation I have gotten over the last few months with you guys, and actually receiving art! That's like a fucking dream for every freaking writer (sorry again), so I must share it with you!
> 
> Pleas be so kind and check Kuneruru, the amazing artist of these pictures, out. Here is the link to tumblr and twitter, say Hi from me ;-)  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/kuneruru  
> https://twitter.com/kuneruru

Epilogue

"Hey, watch out, you hit my stool."

The addressed primate looked up in horror and jumped aside, both hands raised apologetically and making horrified noises.

"Yes, yes, fine. Stop looking like that and keep working," he murmured, waving as the Humandrill bent for the rake it had dropped and continued to do its job.

Mihawk, on the other hand, pushed his stool back into the right position and leaned back on Perona's garden chair, on the small side table stood a glass of his favorite wine – a very exquisite discovery Jiroushin’s, which Mihawk had tried at the christening of his godchild and had immediately bought several bottles for himself because he was very fond of the surprising light spice in the aftertaste - and the transponder snail of Kuraigana, next to one of the books that Roronoa had translated, and his sunglasses.

It was another one of those rare sunny days, during the late afternoon the spring air was even warmer than during the last few weeks, and Mihawk had decided to enjoy the precious sun rays. Also, because he hoped he would relax a little.

However, he was also aware of what a day it was, so of course his attempt was in vain. Today was the official day when the straw hats would leave and before Perona or Jiroushin would contact him, Mihawk would not know if everything had gone well. 

Even his excellent wine could only help so far.

The primates had worked like nonstop in the gardens for the last few days, initially accompanied by a wistful weeping, which had only gotten better after he had explained and threatened them that the ghost girl would not return until the Humandrills could be independent. This statement was, of course, nothing but a lie, if and when Perona would really come back, only she knew, and he had much more important things that occupied him. In the end, he did not care if a parasite more or less was on this island, and he knew that she wanted to find out where Gecko Moria was and would definitely not return before Roronoa and his crew had left.

Since that day, Mihawk had lived on a construction site. The primates had polished the entire front garden and also the main garden behind the castle, had even begun to clear away the ruins down at the forest.

In the middle of the garden, four primates worked for two days to replace the old well, which had long since been destroyed, with a new one, and Mihawk watched them. Firstly, because this was still his island and in the end he made the decisions about what would and would not happen, but also because it was somehow entertaining.

In fact, after the first week of self-pity and feeling sorry, he had realized that his life would not change in the near future, and even though Jiroushin occasionally called – to keep him informed of recent events and certainly to check up on him – and the newspaper had been promisingly interesting for a few days, none of this changed the fact that he was just wasting his current days without making good use of the time.

Therefore and for the lack of a better idea – none of Roronoa's suggestions had inspired him – he had actually started to dig through the dirt himself, in a sad attempt not to be consumed by his gnawing feelings.

It was still hurting, and his worries were still great, kept rising every second, but he did not want to be controlled by them.

So he lay here in the sun, the newspaper on the ground to his right, his wine and the book to his left, but his thoughts far away; he had just come to the conclusion that he had made a mistake, but now it was too late. Even if he left now, he would not make it in time and that was probably a good thing, because otherwise, he knew that, he would...

A quiet beeping interrupted his brooding.

Instead of the large transponder snail, the little one called, which he always carried in his pocket. Almost frantically, he pulled it out, hesitated for a second, but then pressed the button.

For a moment it was absolutely quiet, even the primates within call range seemed to be silent.

"Hello," he finally said breathlessly, after the agreed two seconds of waiting.

For another second, the line was quiet.

"Hey," came redemption, and Mihawk could not hinder feeling relieved while he exhaled deeply, "it took me a little longer to get in touch. Sorry, some busy days."

The connection was bad, but it did not matter, on the other side of the twin snail was Roronoa, and only that counted.

"It is okay, Roronoa, Jiroushin had contacted me and warned me that you were very busy during the last few days. Can you talk freely?"

Quietly, the other laughed.

" I can."

"Where are you? I thought you were going to leave today and according to the bad connection you are already on your way to the Fish Man Island. Should you not be with your friends instead of talking to me?"

"On the way, by all means, we've already reach it a long time ago."

"Oh, and were you warmly welcomed?"

"Depends. I'm in some palace, or something."

"The Ryuuguu Palace?"

He could hardly hide his surprise. Roronoa, however, sounded extremely relaxed, like he had during the evenings by the fire, and somehow that relaxed him too. However, he wondered what the younger man had done to be summoned by the king.

"Hmm," the other muttered approvingly, "I'm in jail right now."

"What?!" Why was he even surprised? "Roronoa, what is..."

"Back off. It's alright.”

"You are in jail!"

The stool flipped over when Mihawk jumped up, halfway on the way to his ship.

"Wouldn't be my first time," it came far too calmly from the other side, "don't worry."

"And again: You are in jail! And you tell me not to worry?"

"Yes, it's alright. I had some booze, took a nap, could rest a little bit as Loreen without being seen and after our little conversation here, I think I'll leave."

"Breaking out?"

Again came this little laugh from the other side, which made Mihawk smile immediately, even as tense as he was right now.

"Yes, as I said, I have nothing left to do and my bottle is empty. I think I'm going to look for the others now."

"You're in jail."

"So?"

Now Mihawk was laughing as he sat down again. He sometimes forgot how straight-forward Roronoa could think. Using a prison cell for regeneration before searching for his friends – whom he had undoubtedly lost sight of because of his lacking sense of direction – was so naturally unusual that only Roronoa or perhaps his captain could come up with such a ridiculous idea. And that he had used the moment to call him, at least long enough to think of him to come up with the idea of calling him, it warmed his cold heart.

"Well, Roronoa, I do not want to delay your breakout for long, but please tell me how you are doing? You have not contacted me since your arrival at the Sabaody Archipelago, contrary to our agreement. If Jiroushin had not called me, I would not have..."

"Relax, what are you so stressed about today?" Roronoa murmured, unimpressed. “Nothing special happened, okay? As always, Eizen was annoying and I could have done without the meetings, Comil wasn't much better and Rayleigh is as bad as Perona."

Mihawk paused over this unusual comparison, he could hardly imagine what the Dark King and the ghost princess might have in common.

"But his coating for the Sunny was good, after all we arrived down here without dying. Oh, and did you hear about the Pacifista?"

"Excuse me?"

He did not know why Roronoa suddenly mentioned the humanoid weapons of the World Government, but it did not calm him the least.

"Yes, I crushed one of them today," remarked the other, and Mihawk could hear the proud grin in his voice, before adding an annoyed second sentence, "well, the cook jumped in my way, almost cut him in half, so annoying, I tell you, and after that..."

Smiling, he listened to the unusually enthusiastic narrative of his little frog over the past day, about how he had met his crew, that they had fought the Marines – and he did not even miss to praise Perona for her new techniques, not that Mihawk cared – and how they had finally sunken into the depths of the ocean. He told of the deep-sea monsters they had seen and the competition he had wanted to hold with his captain, but had been stopped by the crew's _scarety cats._

Mihawk liked it when the younger one sounded so enthusiastic and pretended not to be, but it was more than obvious that he had missed his friends and was just incredibly happy, and if Mihawk was quite honest, that made him happy.

Maybe, only maybe it had not been a mistake to let him go on his own.

Just as the newspaper seagull arrived at Kuraigana, they ended their conversation and for the first time in more than a week peace and serenity, Mihawk otherwise took for granted, and a feeling of happiness that was so precious filled him.

Roronoa promised to call as soon as they arrived safely on the other side of the Red Line and Mihawk promised to lie low until then.

Much more relaxed than before, Mihawk put the little white transponder snail back in his pocket while the seagull landed on a branch of the cherry tree seedling.

It was not surprising to him that the seagull had three letters for him in addition to the newspaper, unlike ordinary newspaper seagulls, this one was assigned to him as a Shichibukai and served not only to supply the newspaper, but also to enable quick correspondence between him and the World Government, no matter where he was.

He was not surprised that one of the letters informed him that an increased level of security would be introduced on Mary Joa as a result of the upcoming Reverie, and that, as he was the only Shichibukai living in the immediate area, he was on standby for unforeseen events and should not leave his residence.

As always, the letter was signed and sealed, testified to the importance that the five elders gave to this arrangement. He had almost expected that such an instruction would be given, which prevented him from accompanying Lady Loreen and at the same time restricted his freedom of movement.

Mihawk had guessed that something great was imminent, but this letter was confirmation enough. With a shrug of his shoulder, he crumbled the letter and threw it over his shoulder onto the field, where a Humandrill came almost immediately and fetched the letter, carrying it to the compost.

The second letter, a message from Jiroushin about the events of the morning, about which Roronoa had already informed him in detail, but apparently not particularly objectively, did not surprise him much.

The last letter, however, quickly diminished his bliss when he saw Eizen's seal in the wax. Displeased he tore the letter open and started to read, and with every word of Eizen thanking him for dispensing Lady Loreen for such a long time until the Reverie, he grew more furious.

Eizen assured him that Lady Loreen would be a great help to complete all the preparations over the next few days, but that he should not worry about her, as Eizen would take care of Mihawk's _acquaintance._

In the last sentence, the politician apologized for demanding so much time from the esteemed Lady Loreen, but that things would change after the Reverie and that they should all look forward to those times with confidence.

Mihawk rose and stomped towards the castle.

"What?" He growled as one of the primates tried to stop him. "Get out of the way!"

But then he stopped for a second and turned to the remaining primates.

"Listen up, Humandrills." Immediately, the addressees saluted like soldiers. "I will now be gone for a few days and when I come back you are finished with the work in the garden and down by the ruins and do not dare to slack off or enter the castle, understood?"

He paid tribute to their salute with a brief nod and stormed into the castle to fetch his belongings.

He would teach this bastard a lesson about lying and deceiving him. This time he would not hold back, enough was enough. He could take a lot of things, but he would not be taken for a fool!

Angry, he grabbed his sword and the few things he needed.

"Oh, stop your compromising and well-meaning! I allow nobody to treat me like that," he grumbled at his weapon as he rushed back the long corridors. "You won’t get away with that, Roronoa!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, it's over, the end!
> 
> Well, who am I kidding, you probably already guessed that there will be a third part (I mean we got so many lose ends to take care of, right?!) so yeah, the third part will be a thing and of course it will be all about secrets ;-)   
> Few days ago I actually just finished the 23rd chapter (will probably need a lot of fixing, it's over 11k words long, so actually way too long, but who knows what it's good for) and at the moment I'm planning to start uploading during the late summer. As some of you know I will have my big exam in April or May (depending how bold I will be) so I don't know how much time I will have for writing, revising, and translating, so once again, please be patient with me. The last part will come! I promise!
> 
> Until then, have a great time, don't do anything our two favorite idiots wouldn't do (which actually doesn't leave a lot^^') and take care of yourselves. I really hope to see you guys soon and I really hope you enjoyed the journey so far and I really, really hope you will like what's to come ;-)
> 
> With all the love  
> Sharry


End file.
